i 


',     W 


THE 


HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLABS, 


A  NOVEL. 


MRS.   J.   E.  BEOKWITH, 

AUTHOR  0?  "  THI  WINTHBOPS." 


"Tbo  tins  of  the  parents  shall  be  visited  upon  the  children.*1 


NEW  YORK: 
W.  E.  HILTON,  PUBLISHER, 

128  NASSAU  STREET. 

1871. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  gray  shade.?  of  quick  coming  evening  settled  over  and  around 
tlie  gloomy  homestead  of  Miles  Sterling,  standing  solitary  and  half 
Blmt  in  from  the  street  behind  a  row  of  Lombardy  poplars,  which 
lifted  (heir  ragged  tops  toward  the  lowering  sky  as  if  imploringly. 

There  was  a  comfortless  chill  in  the  late  au,tiimn  air,  anrl  ever 
and  anon  scattering  hail-stones  were  whirled  against  the  window- 
panes,  in  promise  of  the  wintry  storm,  whose  purple  clouds  scudded 
over  the  horizon. 

The  bleak  hill  upon  whose  crest  the  hottse  stood,  was  all  un- 
shielde.l  from  the  fording  blasts  which  whistled  shrill  and  drearily 
around  the  rattling  window-panes,  and  the  low,  wood-colored 
building  itself,  looked  as  if  prematurely  hastened  to  decay  by  a 
sense  of  its  own  uncared-for  position  in  a  bleak  world. 

Its  low  windows  had  never  repealed  themselves  in  any  second 
story,  but  stretched  in  a  row  of  six  along  its  front,  shaded  by  the 
melancholy  poplars  which  despised  it  in  summer,  and  seemingly 
forsook  it  in  winter,  when  the  heavy,  sodden  snow  of  northern 
Ohio  furnished  a  mantle  under  which  they  could  screen  themselves. 
Excepting  these,  the  rambling,  rail-fenced  yard  offered  no  object  for 
the  eye  (o  rost  upon.  Not  a  flower  or  shrub  broke  the  tasteless  mo- 
notony of  the  tangled  weeds  and  grass  which  spread  down  to  tho 
sandy  road,  along  which  the  teams  of  the  neighboring  farmers  plod- 
ded and  dragged  in  a  hopeless,  weary  way,  as  if  no  thought  of  a 
better  footho.d  beyond,  lent«pigor  to  the  effort.  The  uncomfortable 
aspect  of  the  situation  was  at  this  season  of  the  year  intensified  by 
the  ceaseless  plashing  of  water  falling  over  the  dam  that  enclosed 
one  end  of  a  willow  bordered  mill-pond,  which  fed  the  red  grist- 
mill below,  and  the  whirr  of  the  slowly  moving  machinery  kept  up  a 
ceaseless  undertone  to  the  wind  which  whistled  over  th*>  hill,  and 


4  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPKARS. 

around  the  casements,  like  the  voice  of  departed  hurricanes  in  pur- 
gatorial torments. 

Inside  the  weather-beaten  dwelling,  known  as  "the  old  mill- 
house,"  from  its  proprietary  connection  with  the  red  mill,  every- 
thing was  even  more  unattractive  than  without.  The  ceilings  were 
low  nnd  cracked,  and  dun  colored  by  the  smoke  that  rose  in  a  per- 
severing cloud  from  the  smouldering  faggots  laid  upon  the  iron  dogs 
whose  laces  are  ornamented  by  a  hollow  ring,  looking  out  like  an 
eye  ;  and  the  row  of  windows  impartially  divided  between  the  two 
front  rooms,  were  each  one  covered  to  the  middle  sash  by  curtain- 
of  smoke,  discolored  paper,  torn  and  fretted  into  more  than  one  irre- 
parable breach,  eked  out  at  the  last  one  in  the  row,  by  an  old  num- 
ber of  the  county  newspaper,  no  less  stained  and  battered  by  mis- 
fortune. 

A  faded  rag  carpet  afforded  some  pretence  of  protection  to  the 
floor;  but  even  this  spoke  of  the  wasting  cares  of  existence,  and  illy 
concealed  the  traces  of  its  direful  throes  under  the  grasp  of  the  de- 
stroyer. A  few  red  posted  wooden  chairs,  a  rickety-legged  table, 
and  a  contemporaneous  settee,  comprised  the  furniture  of  the  room 
in  which  Mrs.  Sterling  sat  silently  cowering  in  front  of  the  cheer- 
le.-s  fire,  her  face  at  times  quite  concealed  between  the  hands  in 
which  she  buried  it,  as  she  swayed  herself  restlessly  to  and  fro  as  if 
striving  thus  to  restrain  some  stronger  outburst  of  impatience.  But 
often  she  raised  it  toward  the  continually  fading  light  yet  lingering 
round  the  homestead,  and  despite  the  half  disguise  of  ita  usual  ex- 
pression, imparted  by  a  frown  born  of  her  present  humor,  it  was  a 
face  one  turned  again  and  again  to  study,  so  contradictory  were  the 
lines  by  which  one  read  it.  The  low,  roundish,  unspeaking  brow 
of  shallow  womanhood,  the  unnoticeable  nose,  possessing  no  partic- 
ular contour,  and  the  usual  vapid  expression  of  the  mouth,  spoke  of 
a  low  order  of  intellect,  unredeemed  by  any  saving  flashes  of  a  high- 
er genius;  and  one  looked  again  to  discover  in  what  lay  the  unde- 
fined influence  exercised  by  such  features.  The  gray  eyes  were  ever 
changing,  yet  seldom  brightening,  but  the  occasional  oblique  glance 
darting  from  beneath  the  depressed  eyelids,  revealed  the  first  cause 
for  an  involuntary  distrust,  and  the  peculiar  formation  of  brain  evi- 
denced by  the  contour  of  skull,  might  both  literally  and  met;. 
ic;dly  be  pronounced  "  long  headed ;"  a  decision  confirmed  by  an 
occasional  .expression  of  the  usually  placid  mouth ;  and  the  deep 
lines  extending  downward  in  a  peculiar  curve,  towards  the  promi- 
nent chin,  spoke  of  a  jealous  disposition  descending  into  pos'iivo 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   TOPLARS.  0 

selfishness.  Her  lithe,  yet  vigorous  frame,  evidenced  strong  vitality, 
and  the  rather  coarse  brown  hair  put  tidily  enough  under  the  keep- 
ing of  a  horn  comb,  gave  no  clue  to  the  ever  contradictory  conclu- 
sions as  to  her  age,  which  at  one  moment  might  have  been  thirty, 
and  at  another  seemed  at  least  ten  years  more,  as  some  internal  emo- 
tion lined  itself  strongly  upon  her  face. 

The  sound  of  a  cough  issuing  from  the  adjoining  room,  roused 
her  from  her  last  resumed  cowering  posture  near  the  fire  ;  and  with 
a  jerk  of  the  door  sticking  upon  the  sill  as  she  essayed  to  open  it, 
she  pa-sed  on  into  the  other  room,  from  which  a  chillier  draft  of  air 
rushed  out  to  exchange  places  with  the  smoky  atmosphere  of  the 
scarcely  more  comfortable  apartment  she  had  left.  The  room  was 
so  dark  that  only  at  a  second  glance  could  one  perceive  the  outlines 
of  a  bed,  from  whose  occupant  the  tight,  distressing  cough  contin- 
ued its  appeal. 

"  What  do  you  want  now  ?''  asked  Mrs.  Sterling,  fretfully,  and  a 
child's  voice  replied, 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  hot  and  achey ;  and  I  want  some  water  so  bad  !  my 
bones  shake,  and  all  of  me" — 

"  There,  there,  that  will  do.  I  can't  help  it,  I'm  sure !  Doctor 
Kclley  han't  come  yet,  and  I  don't  know  as  he's  coming  at  all.  He's 
too  much  else  to  think  of." 

But  despite  the  complaining  tone  which  seemed  to  blame  the  boy 
for  his  sufferings,  she  brought  a  dipper  of  water  from  the  kitchen, 
and  when  he  had  finished  his  eager  draught,  bade  him  "  lie  down 
and  be  patient,  for  once,"  and  then  walked  to  the  window  and 
looked  moodily  out,  while  the  little  fellow  crawled  back  among  his 
pillows  and  said  no  more. 

Even  as  the  deep  lines  of  discontent  grew  almost  savagely  marked 
between  her  eyebrows,  the  sound  of  wheels  grinding  through  the 
sand,  fell  upon  her  ear,  and  in  an  instant  more,  a  doctor's  gig  stop- 
ped at  the  bars  which  gave  egress  from  the  yard  to  the  street,  and 
without  stopping  to  tie  the  well  trained  horse,  the  doctor  ran  hasti- 
ly up  the  narrow  path  between  the  tangled  grass,  and  Mrs.  Sterling 
opened  the  door,  with  the  not  gracious  salutation, 

"  It's  well  you  thought  to  come,  at  last !  Time  was,  when  I  hadn't 
to  wait  half  a  day,  and  that,  too,  with  the  old  man  every  minute 
likely  to  come  in  1" 

"There,  Lydia,  don't  scold,  it's  all  thrown  away  on  me,  and,  be- 
eides,  quite  undeserved.  I  tried  to  come  at  the  hour  named  in  your 
liote,  but  a  sad  accident  at  ju.~,tthe  last  moment  detained  me,  as  even 


6  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

a  doctor  can't  be  always  hard-hearted  and  put  one  off  with  a  prom- 
ise to  call  to-morrow." 

"  Not  unless  there's  a  woman  in  the  case,  and  particularly  an  old 
one.  I  scraped  the  last  pound  of  flour  out  of  the  barrel  last  night, 
and  hid  it ;  and  as  Sterling's  got  more  corn  to  grind,  now,  than  he 
can  any  way  finish  by  the  time  he's  agreed  to,  and  to-day's  Satur- 
day, I  knew  he'd  have  to  borrow  of  brother  Jonathan,  over  the 
hill ;  and  so  I  had  him  off  out  of  the  way  by  two  o'clock  to-day, 
which  is  just  the  time  I  wrote  you  to  come,  and  as  children  have 
long  ears,  I  made  him  take  the  youngest  boy  with  him.  I  wanted 
to  have  a  talk  with  you,  and  here  it  is  night  already,  and  a  bad  one 
at  that,  so  the  old  man  won't  wait  to  eat  supper  at  Jonathan's,  even 
to  save  the  cost  of  one  at  home." 

"  Never  mind,  Lydia.  Any  woman  who  is  sharp  enough  to  get 
her  good  man  out  of  the  way  when  he  isn't  wanted,  is  shrewd 
enough  to  dispose  of  him  if  he  comes  back  too  soon." 

"  'Good  man  ?'  I  don't  know  any,"  retorted  Mrs.  Sterling  bitterly, 
as  she  stirred  the  fire  into  something  like  a  blaze,  and  then  silently 
watched  the  doctor  as  he  shook  his  gloves  and  coat  free  from  the 
\mthawed  snow-flakes  that  covered  them. 

"Well,  how  is  the  boy?"  he  asked,  extending  in  turn  each  hand 
toward  the  blaze. 

"  Sick,  as  usual.  He's  never  seen  a  well  day  yet,  and  I  don't  sup- 
pose he  ever  will.  He's  nothing  but  a  trouble  to  me,  and  never  has 
been,  and  I  could  shake  the  daylight  out  of  him  sometimes,  when  I 
think  how  it  was  him  who  brought  me  into  the  miserable  fix  I'm 
in  !  Look  at  my  home  :  ain't  it  nice,  not  to  say  anything  of  Ster- 
ling's addle-headed,  or,  as  lie  calls  it,  crazy  old  mother,  who'll  live, 
and  live  me  into  my  grave,  in  spite  of  everything  not  good  for  her 
he  ilth  !  All  my  trouble  is  your  fault.  Yes,  you  can't  deny  it.  You 
croaked  "  awful  exposure,"  and  preached  "  respectability  "  at  me,  till 
I  was  scared  and  wheedled  into  it,  while  all  you  wanted  was  to  get 
me  well  off  your  hands  before  you  married  that  .very  virtuous  and 
highly  respected  lady,  who  is  now  Mrs.  Kelley,  as  /  ought  to  hare 
been — the  more  fool  I  was  not  to  have  staid  as  I  was,  and  let  you 
get  along  about  the  brat  the  best  way  you  could !  and  you'd  have 
made  a  good  way;  for  you  are  respectable,  a  saint  in  the  eyes  of  this 
world." 

Her  anger  grew  fiercer  and  more  bitter  as  she  gave  expression  to 
it,  and  turning,  at  last,  the  doctor  held  her  firmly  by  the  shoulders 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THK  POrJLAKS.  7 

which  attempted  resentfully  to  shake  off  the  clasp,  and  compelling 
her  to  face  him,  said  sorrowfully,  but  unflinchingly  : 

"  Stop  there,  Lydia !  I  am  not  as  good  as  I  should  be ;  I  ac- 
knowledge it  with  pain,  as  I  recall  the  past  with  chagrin  !  but, 
Lydia,  one  thing  I  never  icas — a  betrayer  of  innocence,  or  honest  nf- 
fcction  !  You  were  not  unsophisticated  when  I  first  met  you,  and 
y  .u  know,  as  1  do,  that  you  are  in  no  way  worse  than  you  were,  for 
hiving  known  me.  I  will  bear  my  share  of  it  all, but  no  more — 
though  I  wish  to  heaven  I  could  suffer  all  the  penalty  poor  little 
Lisle  will  unavoidably  have  to  endure  in  maay  ways." 

"  I  don't  see  how ;  nor  would  you,  if  you  could  see  Sterling  fuss 
over  and  humor  him  when  he  whines,  and  brag  over  him  when 
there  happens  to  come  a  day  that  the  weazen-faced,  weak-legged 
brut  can  be  got  out  to  the  mill.  If  you  could  hear  him  cracking  up 
and  glorifying  "  my  little  son,"  on  all  occasions,  as  I  do,  as  if  there 
was  nothing  else  of  any  account  under  the  canopy,  yoiCd  despise 
him,  too,  for  being  such  a  fool!  Sometimes  I  can't  help  saying 
back  at  him,  "your  son,''  though  it's  lucky  for  us  all  he  don't  un- 
derstand it.  If  he  knew  it  wasn't  his  son,  but  yours,  he'd  choke  the 
cub  to  death,  and  so  save  the  cost  of  his  bringing  up,  over  which 
he  groans  enough,  I  can  tell  you.  He's  stingier  than  the  very  mar- 
row in  the  back  bone  of  poyprty !" 

"Well,  we'll  discuss  him  another  time.  Give  me  a  light  and  let 
me  see  the  little  fellow  ;  poor  boy  !" 

Mrs.  Sterling  took  up  a  pair  of  unwieldy,  iron-handled  tongs, 
with  which  she  lifted  a  coal  from  the  fireplace,  and  fanning  it  into 
a  glow  by  a  few  vigorous  puffs,  lighted  by  it  a  tallow  candle  which 
wearily  tottered  over  the  high  neck  of  an  iron  candle-stick  on  the 
mantel-piece,  and  resumed  her  seat  before  the  fire,  while  the  doctor 
went  into  the  next  room,  and  bent  over  fie  bed  where  the  little  boy 
lay  in  a  condition  that  sent  a  sudren  stab  into  his  heart.  Rigid> 
motionless,  the  widely  open  eyes  seeing  nothing,  it  seemed  at  first 
view  that  he  was  really  dead  ;  but  ev-  n  as  the  doctor  bent  lower 
and  clasped  the  little  wrist  with  pitying  fingers,  a  long,  convulsive 
simdder  shook  the  child's  frame,  and  the  blood  leaped  with  sudden 
force  along  the  arteries.  For  one  instant  the  doctor  leant  over  him 
breathlessly,  then  turned  away  and  went  back  to  the  room  where 
Mrs.  Sterling  indulged  her  reverie.  Placing  the  candje  back  upon 
the  mnntlepiece,  he  leant  his  forehead  on  the  edge  of  the  shelf,  and 
gazed  down  into  the  fire  in  a  perfect  silence  which  caused  her  to 
raise  her  head  in  curiosity. 


b  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  This  isn't  the  first  time  you've  seen  him  »o,  I 
suppose/' 

'•Yes,  the  very  first  time  I  ever  saw  him  so;"  then  turning  sud- 
denly, be  asked, 

"  Lydia,  how  old  is  that  boy  ? ' 

"  You've  a  happy  memory  !  I've  been  the  wife  of  Miles  Sterling 
going  on  seven  miserable  years." 

''Yes,  I  remember.     For  God's  sake  speak  lower,  Lydia;   for  as* 
•we  both  live,  he  has  heard  every  word  that  has  passed  since  I  came 
in  !     The  door  was  partly  open." 

"  Nonsense  !  he  was  asleep,  and  if  he  did  hear,  he  couldn't  under- 
stand— such  a  mere  little  pimp!" 

"  Less  a  child  than  you  think !  Suffering,  and — I  must  say  it, 
Lydia — ill  treatment,  have  made  him  painfully  precocious.  The 
child  who  bears  suffering  like  an  adult,  thinks  and  feels  as  one.  Oh, 
Lydia,  you  and  I  have  much  to  answer  for  !'' 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  for  I'm  answering  for  it,  I  can  tell  you  !  I 
don't  suppose  that  men  ever  do  answer  for  things  of  this  kind.  It 
is  women,  only,  that  are  guilty  and  warned  to  repent.  There ;  don't 
you  hear  the  wagon  coming  through  the  bars  ?  my  husband  has 
come !  You're  a  great  favorite  of  his,  and  hell  be  glad  to  see  you — 
if  you've  had  your  supper,  which  is  worth  twenty-five  cents,1'  and  her 
lip  curbed. 

"  Lydia,  why  don't  yon  rectify  all  this  in  your  home  which  seems 
so  to  embitter  you  ?  The  only  part  of  any  one's  nature  which  you 
ever  cared  to  learn,  is  the  weakest  part ;  assail  your  husband  in  that, 
and  lay  your  foundation  for  a  new  experience, -and,  what  is  worth 
more,  a  new  house.  Thjs  is  dull  and  dreary ;  but  you,  alone,  can 
rectify  it  if  you  choose  to  do  so." 

''Yes,  and  I  suppose  I  can  'rectify'  a  disposition  so  mean  and 
stingy  it  won't  let  him  put  any  flesh  on  his  bones — he's  thin  as  a 
shad — and  an  old  woman  who  lives  only  to  torment  me  ;  and  a  half 
'  come-by-chance'  child,  who,  to  cap  all,  is  forever  sick  ;  and  a  Ster- 
ling brood  that  are  likely  to  come  and  come  on,  lucky  if  not  half  of 
them  twins !  and  perhaps,  after  all  that.  I  can  '  rectify '  myself,  in 
some  way,  into  a  respected,  amiable,  never  tired  woman,  '  calculated 
to  make  a  happy  home,'  as  the  wise  books  have  it !  Yet,  seeing  mo 
as  you  do  in  all  this  misery,  you,  who  helped  to  bring  it  on  me,  can 
sit  there  and  roll  out  pills  like  a  machine,  or  a— man  !" 

A  little  shadow  of  a  smile  crossed  the  doctor's  face  at  this  tirade; 
but  it  as  quickly  vanished,  and  dropping  some  mixture  into  a  med- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  9- 

icine  glass,  he  carried  it  to  the  sick  child  ;  and  during  his  absence 
Mr.  Sterling  came  in,  leading  by  one  hand  a  little  boy,  who,  when 
unwrapped  and  set  out  to  warm,  proved  as  chubby  and  sturdy  a 
little  fellow  as  four  and  a  half  years  ever  accomplished.  Mrs.  Ster- 
ling herself  drew  the  stout  calf-skin  shoes  off  the  cold  little  feet,  and 
rubbed  in  her  own  the  fat  red  hands  with  a  cold  dimple  on  every 
knuckle,  her  every  action  and  expression  showing  that  this  was  tho 
mother's  favorite,  the  child  par  excellence;  and  the  hard,  dissatisfied 
look  her  face  had  worn  till  then,  softened  into  its  usual  vapid,  weak- 
minded  expression,  betokening  a  character  apparently  incapable 
even  of  pique  or  anger.  As  for  the  child,  he  sat  patient  and  un- 
demonstrative under  all  this  manipulating,  his  wide  open  gray  eyes, 
BO  like  his  mother's,  looking  unblinkingly  into  the  blaze,  with  a 
resolute  expression  of  daring  and  hardihood  lighting  up  the  small 
round  face,  almost  grotesque  to  witness. 

"  How's  Lisle  ?"  asked  Mr.  Sterling  briefly,  as  he  drew  his  own 
chair  into  the  warmest  corner,  and  taking  out  his  spectacles,  wiped 
them  on  a  led  silk  handkerchief,  and  then  evolved  the  weekly 
newspaper  from  an  obstinately  retentive  pocket,  accompanied  by  a 
grunt  of  approbation  at  the  success  of  his  efforts. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Dr.  Kelley  never  came  near  him  till  a 
few  minutes  ago,  and  he  never  tells  me  anything  if  I  ask  him.  He's 
in  there  with  him,  now,  and  maybe  he'll  tell  you  what  ails  him. 
Have  you  had  your  supper  ?" 

"  Yes,  Jonathan's  wife  got  an  early  tea  for  us.  She's  a  smart 
woman,  but  extravagant;  and,  as  I  told  Jonathan,  when  they  run 
through  their  property  they  mustn't  come  upon  me." 

"  Told  'em  so,  did  you  ?  I  suppose  your  tea  was  too  good  to  be 
economical — more's  the  pity." 

"  Where's  the  old  lady  ?" 

"In  bed,  for  a  mercy.  She  a'n't  the  best  of  company,  a'n'tthe  old 
lady,  so  I  let  her  lie.  She'll  wake  up  when  she  gets  hungry.  Sakes 
alive !  how  the  smoke  worries  my  poor  eyes !  I'd  as  lives  freeze  and 
done  with  it." 

"  Ma,  don't  Li.  freeze,  too  ?  a'n't  he  shivery  in  there?" 

"I  suppose  so,  my  son ;  but  sick  little  Lisle  can't  stand  the  smoke 
like  the  rest  of  us." 

Mr.  Sterling  laid  the  newspaper  across  his  knee,  and  looked 
thoughtfully  into  the  fire,  his  pinched  and  narrow  face  wearing  an 
unusually  serious  expression,  which  his  wife  noied  in  the  oblique 
outlook  from  under  her  brows. 


10  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS. 

During  the  silence,  Dr.  Kelley  returned  from  his  visit  to  the  sick 
boy,  and  after  the  usual  common-places  between  Mr.  Sterling  and 
himself,  he  said, 

"  Mr.  Sterling,  it  is  but  one  degree  short  of  murder  to  keep  that 
•ick  boy  in  this  uncomfortable  old  shell  of  a  house.  The  smoke, 
nnd  continual  exposure  to  drafts,  of  this  room,  is  but  little  improved 
upon  by  the  raw  dampness  of  the  one  where  he  lies,  and,  with  his 
feeble  constitution,  I  won't  be  answerable  for  the  consequence?.1' 

"Ahem,"  began  Mr.  Sterling  in  the  weak,  indistinct  voice  natural 
•with  him :  "  I  meant  to  have;  built,  this  year ;  but  some  way  thu 
money  didn't  seem  to  come.  It's  a  hard  world  to  get  along  in  with 
a  growing  family." 

"  Don't  borrow  trouble,  Mr.  Sterling,"  said  his  wife  mildly.  "  It 
may  ple;ise  Providence  to  take  away  some  of  us,  and  I'm  sure  you'd 
ought  to  be  glad  it's  like  to  be  Lisle,  who's  more  expense  to  you  than 
all  the  rest  of  us  put  together." 

The  doctor  buttoned  his  great  coat  preparatory  to  going,  and  Mr. 
Sterling  added,  more  as  if  in  comment  to  himself  than  in  answer  to 
the  suggestion  of  another, 

"  If  I  thought  we'd  have  an  open  winter,  I'd  begin  now.  I  s'pose 
.1  could  find  the  money." 

"  For  that  matter,"  said  the  doctor,  cordially,  "  I  will  cheerfully 
lend  a  hand  to  help  an  old  friend.  I  can  accommodate  you  with  a 
loan  of  a  hundred  or  two,  and  of  caurse  interest  is  not  to  be  thought 
of  between  such  old  neighbors.  Think  of  it,  Sterling,  and  you'll  be 
ready  to  commence  next  spring,  at  the  latest.  And  now  good  eve- 
ning, as  Mrs.  Kelley  will  be  waiting  tea." 

A  whirl  of  wind  and  snow  met  the  doctor  as  he  went  out  into  the 
street,  and  the  falling  water  over  the  dam,  added  a  chill  of  its  own 
to  the  surroundings  ;  but  scarcely  noticing  it  all,  he  gathered  up  the 
reins  and  turned  his  horse's  head- toward  home,  both  brain  and  heart 
absorbed  in  deep  thought.  Left  to  its  own  guidance,  the  faithful 
Pegasus  made  good  time  homeward,  and  the  doctor  was  taken  by 
surprise  as  the  bright  light  from  his  own  windows  shone  upon  him, 
nnd  the  boy  came  out  to  lead  the  horse  to  the  stable.  A  warm  fire 
and  a  cheerful  tea  table  awaited  him,  and  a  pleasant  looking  little 
woman  lingered  for  one  last  tucking  in  of  the  soft  quilt  which 
covered  the  rosy  occupant  of  a  wicker  cradle  in  the  warm  corner, 
and  then  came  forward  to  welcome  her  husband. 
L  '•  You  are  late  to-night,  William,  nnd  I  know  you  must  be  both 


THE   HOUSE   13EHIND   TUE    POPLARS.  11 

cold  and  hungry.     Has  old  Mr.  Higgins  an  addition  to  his  miseries, 
or  Miss  Dobton  a  relapse  of  hypo  ?': 

''  No,  Emily,  Mr.  Allan's  oldest  boy  fell  from  the  hay  loft  and 
broke  bis  arm,  which  made  me  late  with  my  other  patients,  and  I 
am  now  just  from  Miles  Sterling's." 

"  Which  answers  my  suggestions  that  you  are  neither  wanned  nor 
fed.  Is  little  Lisle  sick  ?" 

"  Yes,  poor  little  fellow,  and  I'm  afraid  not  too  well  nursed  or  cared 
for.  That  old  house  is  as  cold  and  cheerless  as  a  barn ;  and  really, 
Emily,  were  it  not  for  overtaxing  you,  it  would  be  only  Christian 
charity  to  bring  him  to  our  own  comfortable  home  for  the  winter. 
I'm  afraid  he  won't  live  it  through,  there,  and  if  he  does,  it  will  be 
only  at  the  price  of  much  suffering  which  ought  to  be  spared  him. 
He  is  a  manly,  patient  little  fellow." 

"Yes,  be  is.  Do  let  us  go  after  him  to-morrow.  It  will  not  over- 
task me  at  all,  as  Bridget  is  the  best  of  servants,  and  baby  is  quiet 
as  a  kUten." 

The  doctor  smoothed  the  soft  brown  hair,  and  kissed  the  cheek 
of  his  wife,  and  his  spirits  rose  to  cheerfulness  as  they  sat  at  their 
tea.  The  troubled  expression  which  had  hardened  his  face,  relaxed, 
and  he  looked,  now,  a  genial,  benevolent  gentleman,  of  about  forty 
years  of  age.  His  large,  finely-formed  head,  seemed  in  perfect  har- 
mony with  the  square,  well-made  forehead,  from  which  the  plentiful 
locks  waved  back  over  the  high  temples,  and  his  blue  eyes  had  a 
kindly  beam  that  won  their  way  at  once  into  the  hearts  of  both 
young  and  old.  His  rather  large  but  not  unhandsome  mouth 
seemed  formed  only  to  utter  the  kir.d  words,  which,  accompanied 
by  a  still  kinder  voice,  made  him  beloved  by  all. 

"  Oh,  Emily,  this  is  what  home  ought  to  be,"  said  he,  as,  tea  over, 
he  drew  his  wife's  chair  close  by  his  own  in  front  of  the  bright  wood 
fire.  "I  never  come  back  to  it  without  feeling  that  here  we  do  not 
know  what  trouble  is.  To  see  so  many  gloomy,  comfortless,  discon- 
tented homes,  is  enough  to  give  one  the  horrors  on  purely  scientific 
principles." 

•' Speaking  of  those  Sterlings;  even  to  pass  their  dreary  placo 
makes  me  shiver  ;  nor  could  I  ever  account  for  the  disagreeable  feel- 
ing so  commonplace,  not  to  say  silly,  a  woman  gives  me!  I  always 
feel  as  if  her  gray  eyes  were  piercing  me  through  and  through  in 
hope  to  discover  some  unconfessed  unhnppiness,  or  possibly  even 
g«ilt,  though  I  know  she  hasn't  the  penetration  to  recognize  it,  if 
iound.  I  think  Fate  must  have  united  that  couple  to  punish  him 


12  'lilt:   HOUSE    BE11I.ND   THE   PuPLAKS. 

for  his  parsimony  and  narrow-mindedness,  and  her  for  her  general 
disagreeability.     How  did  such  a  marriage  ever  come  abont  ?" 

"An  unanswerable  question  as  to  most  marriages,  but  not  this 
one.  She  was  a  Miss  Fitzjame?,  of  good  family,  I  believe — at  least 
their  high  blood  is  her  constant  boast — but  impoverished  by  some 
unexplained  fatality,  and  being  too  poor  to  gratify  her  ambitions  in 
life,  and  too  proud  to  marry  any  one  of  less  noble  lineage  than  her- 
self, she  passed  her  days  in  a  vexed  struggle  between  her  pride  and 
poverty,  till  at  twenty-five  she  was  no  nearer  her  goal,  and  much 
nearer  old  maidenhood. 

"  When  I  first  commenced  practice  here,  she  was  a  rather  pretty 
girl  of  nineteen  or  twenty  years,  whom  I  often  saw  at  her  work  in  a 
little  dressmaker's  shop  which  she  kept  for  the  town  ;  but  it  was 
not  till  two  or  three  years  afterward,  that  I  ever  formed  any  person- 
al acquaintance  with  her.  I  believe  she  rather  schemed  to  become 
acquainted  with  Sterling,  when  his  father  died — leaving  him  the 
red  mill  and  the  homestead ;  iind  he,  unsocial,  and  pre-occupied  as 
much  as  his  illiterate  mind  could  be  occupied,  was  rather  astonish- 
i-hed,  if  not  really  pleased,  with  the  chattiness  and  energy  of  the 
lady  whom  his  friends  persuaded  him  would  make  just  the  wife  he 
needed  to  look  after  his  house,  and  his  mother,  who  was  even  then 
a  harmless  sort  of  lunatic. 

'•  Miss  Fitzjnmes  consented  to  overlook  his  inferior  birth,  in  con- 
sideration of  his  superior  property,  and  married  him,  to  find  it 
above  and  beyond  her  reach,  and  even  her  feminine  aggravations 
and  annoyances  in  consequence,  fell  unheeded  upon  the  granite  rock 
of  his  parsimony  and  obstinacy.  If  there  ever  was  anything  soft 
and  womanly  about  her,  it  has  vanished  under  the  certainly  not  en- 
viable existence  she  leads  with  him  there  in  that  rickuty  '  Castle  of 
Despair.'  I'm  really  sorry  for  her." 

"  What  a  pity  such  a  couple  should  have  children  !  They  cer- 
tainly will  avenge  a  miserable  childhood,  by  a  contemptuous  man- 
hood ;  and  justly  enough,  too,  because  naturally." 

The  doctor  and  his  wife  sat  silently  gazing  among  the  glowing 
rindf-rs,  and  an  occasional  quiver  £>f  his  eyelids  evidenced  that  las 
musings,  at  least,  were  not  altogether  general  in  their  application. 
Did  the  thought  occur  to  him  that  he,  too,  might  fall  heir  to  some- 
thing of  this  vengeance  for  a  miserable  childhood  ? 

The  subject  opened  a  wide  field  for  conjecture,  and  if  the  doctor 
lost  himself  among  its  intricate  windings,  and  vainly  sought  a  re- 
assuring  way  out,  who  shall  say  that  his  anxiety  for  the  Uctle  one 


THE   HOUSE   BEIIIXD   THE   POPLAR3.  13 

over  whom  be  felt  a  yearning  responsibility,  almost  destitute  of 
power,  was  not  in  part  a  reparation  for  a  wrong  long  ago  committed  ? 
Gladly  would  lie  have  made  it  so,  and  he  was  ever  seeking  some 
excuse  or  pretence  to  adopt  him  as  his  own ;  but  Mr.  Sterling  felt 
for  the  child  the  first  spark  of  real  affection  that  h-itl  ever  dawned 
upon  his  flinty  nature,  and  hi  all  ways  such  an  act  was  hedged  in 
by  difficulties. 

No  scandal  had  ever  breathed  upon  Dr.  Kelley's  name,  and  if  he 
bestowed  unusual  care  and  attention  upon  the  Sterlings'  invalid 
child,  often  tak-ing  him  along  upon  his  country  rides,  or  keeping 
him  whole  days  at  his  house,  it  was  accepted  by  the  admiring  town- 
people  as  only  another  proof  of  his  kind  heartedntss,  and  lauded  as 
such,  while  his  wife  vied  with  him  in  attention,  really  feeling  tor  the 
delicate  child  a  motherly  tenderness  only  second  to  that  she  cher- 
ished for  her  own  little  daughter. 

The  dread  and  mysterious  Power  Avho  presides  over  matrimonial 
ventures  had  vouchsafed  the  doctor  a  good  wife,  and  he  prized  her 
as  she  deserved.  So  they  sat  there  musing  and  chatting  by  turns, 
while  the  wintry  storm  raged  without,  and  having  vainly  beaten  at 
their  door,  swept  on  and  held  high  revel  on  the  hill  where  "the 
mill-house  "  stood,  breathing  a  raw  chill  through  each  crack  be- 
tween the  weather-beaten  clap-boards,  whistling  a  general  rally  of 
forces  as  it  assailed  the  loose  windows  which  each  rattled  and  whis- 
tled in  a  voice  of  its  own,  and  having  at  last  thus  fretted  itself  into 
quietude,  gave  place  to  a  gi  im,  relentless  cold,  which  laid  a  petrifying 
hand  on  all  things  without  and  within,  stopping  the  noisy  murmur 
of  the  dam,  and  sweeping  with  a  frosty  breath  the  upturned  faces 
of  the  sick  boy  and  his  little  brother  lying  side  by  side  upon  one 
pillow,  the  chubby  arms  of  the  younger  thrown  as  if  protectingly 
around  the  invalid  boy,  soothed  at  last  into  a  deep  sleep. 


THE   HOUSE   T^TTrND   TTTE   POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  IL 

WHAT  a  spirit  of  squeaking  seemed  to  pervade  all  inanimate 
things  touched  by  the  breath  cf  winter,  as  morning  succeeded  the 
night's  storm  carousal.  The  ci  isp  snow  gave  way  beneath  the  tread, 
with  only  a  faint  and  softened  echo  of  the  shriek  poured  forth  Ly 
every  hinge  and  crank,  and  human  fingers  stuck  maliciously  to  each 
frosty  substance  with  which  they  came  in  contact.  Even  the  old 
well-pole  hung  a  creaking  bucket  high  in  air,  all  decked  with  icicles 
and  rime,  and  one  listened  exp  ctunt  of  frosty  wails  issuing  from  the 
grinding  machinery  of  the  very  cows  chewing  and  turning  their  cuds 
to  warm,  iu  the  barn-yard. 

They  were  not  early  astir  in  the  mill-house  on  this  cold  morning. 
It  was  Sunday  ;  and  even  had  it  been  a  working  day,  the  voice  of 
the  mill  was  silenced  by  an  icy  command,  and  nothing  was  to  be 
gained  by  leaving  a  comfortable  bed  for  a  cheerless  territory  beyond. 

Fi  st,  the  boy  who  tended  the  mill,  came  out;  and  by  dint  of 
much  kindling  and  coaxing,  lighted  a  fire  in  the  kitchen,  as  a  fault 
promise  of  breakfast  to  come. 

Then  Mr.  Sterling  seriously  emerged  to  view,  rubbing  his  lean, 
large  hands  together,  aa  if  hoping  one  of  them  might  contrive  to 
impart  some  gleam  of  comfort  to  the  other,  and  in  course  of  time 
Mrs.  Sterling  followed,  twisting  up  her  back  hair  with  benumbed 
fingers  as  she  came ;  and  from  cupboard  and  pantry,  a  series  of 
vigorous  attacks  and  hard  raps,  at  length  gave  place  to  a  more 
agn  cable  sound  of  sputtering  and  frying,  and  the  odor  of  forthcom- 
ing breakfast  called  out  the  remainder  of  the  family.  The  little 
boys  scampered  out  to  finish  dressing  by  the  fire,  their  stiff  little 
fingers  redly  tugging  at  the  buttons  which  persisted  in  considering 
themselves  off  duty,  and  lastly  the  door  of  a  small  bed  room  opened, 
giving  egress  to  a  fleshy  old  woman,  who  took  posse- sion  of  the 
high-backed  rocking  chair  in  the  warmest  corner,  and  wrapping  a 
faded  black  shawl  around  her  shoulders,  bent  herself  forward  so 
that  her  knees  might  afford  support  to  her  elbows,  as,  looking  anx- 
iously over  into  the  frying-pan  hissing  on  a  shovelfull  of  coals  drawn 
well  out  upon  the  hearth,  she  b.-gan  an  improvisation  in  her  cu?*-fni- 
r  ry  ihyrning  way,  singing  the  measure  in  a  sort  of  colloqi1"*1  *°uo — ; 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TlJE   POPLARS.  Id 

"Poor  lady,  poor  lady ;  'tis  pity,  alas ! 
That  things  is  come  to  such  terrible  pass. 
For  sleeping  all  night  as  slim  as  a  shad, 
In  lack  of  full  stomach,  is  awfully  bad." 

"  Hadn't  you  any  supper  last  night,  mother  ?"  asked  Mr.  Sterling 
in  an  injured  tone. 

"No,  thank  ye.  I  was  privately  informed  that  Lydy  had  locked 
up  all  the  eatables;  so  I  didn't  come  out." 

Mrs.  Sterling  explained  a  little  irritably — "I  didn't  cook  supper, 
because  there  wasn't  any  body  but  us  two  to  eat  it ;  but  there  was 
victuals  and  drink  enough  to  be  had  for  the  asking,  as  everybody 
knows." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  know  it ;  but  I  was  privately  informed  by  my  hea- 
venly Father,  that  I  wasn't  to  have  any,"  said  the  old  lady,  hurriedly, 
with  a  glance  over  her  shoulder ;  and  then  resuming  with  a  picler- 
atory  '<  hum,  hum,"  she  went  on  with  her  rhyming. 

"  The  weather  is  cold,  for  winter  is  come, 
It  is  well  if  you  have  a  plenty  of  rum. 
But  I  see  by  the  looks  of  this  scant  frying-pan, 
There  won't  be  fried  apple  enough  for  a  man  1" 

Hem,  hem — Lydy,  don't  you  think  you  might  chuck  in  a  quarter  or 
two  more  o'  them  greenin's  ?  The  family  a'h't  all  small  eaters,  like 
me ;  and  a  hungry  belly  makes  a  cross  temper.  Here,  Pomp  (to 
the  dog),  get  off  the  harth  and  let  your  little  brother  Lisle  come  to 
the  fire.  He's  as  pinched  and  weazen  as  if  he'd  just  come  down  out 
o'  the  fog." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  tell  about  folks  being  made  up  in  the  fog, 
before  tbe  children.  It  ain't  scripteral,"  said  Mr.  Sterling  reprov- 
ingly; and  then  lifting  Lisle  upon  his  knee,  he  clumsily  but  kindly 
finished  the  task  of  putting  the  buttons  under  subjection,  as  he 
asked, 

"  How  do  you  feel  this  morning,  my  little  son  ?"   . 

"  I  feel  better,  father ;  but  something  hurts  me  all  the  time  in 
here,"  and  he  pressed  a  thin  little  hand  over  his  chest,  vainly  trying 
to  draw  a  long  breath. 

"Yes,  and  his  head  goes  round,  round,  round,  and  his  nose  wags 
up  at  the  sky ;  hem,  hum — I  think  you'd  better  give  him  some 
opium  and  salts,  with  a  touch  o'  epicack,  and  hang  him  up  to  dry," 
suggested  the  old  lady  sagely. 

"You  stop  that,  you  gran'ma,"  shouted  Eddy  indignantly.  Li. 
nn't  going  to  be  bullied  by  you  nor  nobody.  Don't  mind  nassy 
gran'ma  ;  she  old — she  don't  know  nothin'.  She's  a  nassy  gran'ma 
all  the  time." 


16  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPI  ARS. 

"  Who's  Uuit  you  call  grandma,  youngster  ?  Tm  only  nineteen  year 
old,  and  going  to  be  married;" 

"Serve  you  right  if  you  be,''  retorted  Eddy  stoutly,  without  any 
definite  idea  as  to  in  what  being  married  consisted,  but  believing  it 
some  penalty  for  one's  sins. 

"Don't  be  bad  to  grandma,  Eddy,"  said  Lisle,  softly  drawing  him 
by  the  sleeve.  "She  don't  mean  any  harm." 

"  Come,  now  draw  up ;  breakfast's  all  ready,"  said  Mrs.  Sterling, 
shaking  out  her  apron  by  way  of  toilet  arrangements. 

''  Ma,  give  Li  gran'ma's  warm  place  to  eat  in.  He's  sick  now — 
gran'ma's  fat — and  give  he  something  "nice ;  will  you  ?"  suggested 
Eddy. 

"  You  make  a  baby  of  your  big  brother,  Eddy.  He  can  eat  what 
the  rest  of  us  do,  I'm  thinking.  Do  you  want  some  johnny  cake, 
Lisle  ?" 

"No,  thank  you.     I  don't  feel  hungry  at  all." 

"I  can't  help  it  if  you  don't ;  you're  going  to  eat.  I  won't  have 
any  putting  on  airs  at  my  table." 

Lisle  took  the  buttered  piece  thus  pressed  upon  him,  and  leaning 
his  elbow  on  the  table,  supported  his  pale  face  ia  one  hand  while 
the  other  raised  the  unwelcome  morsel  to  his  lips. 

"  None  of  that,  now  !  Eat  it,"  commanded  Mrs.  Sterling,  transfix- 
ing him  with  the  cold  gray  eyes  that  always  possessed  a  kind  of 
terror  over  him.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  gave  her  back  a 
look  of  defiance,  which  she  read  with  surprise,  and  laid  the  bread 
resolutely  upon  his  plate.  Mrs.  Sterling  colored  in  anger;  but  bo- 
fore  a  word  passed  her  lip^  the  child's  self-command,  singular  in 
one  so  young  and  frail,  returned,  and  he  made  an  eifort  to  obey. 

Eddy  looked  wrathfully  on;  but,  warned  by  former  experiences, 
1»«  waited  till  his  mother's  attention  was  temporarily  distracted,  ami 
then  hastily  smuggled  away  and  crammed  the  offending  morsel  into 
his  own  not  unwilling  mouth ;  and  when  she  again  looked  at  the 
child,  she  gave  expression  to  the  gratified  comment, 

"I  thought  you'd  find  appetite  when  you  found  there  was  to  be  no 
titbits  for  titmen." 

"Titman  yourself,"  shouted  Eddy  in  a  rage,  which,  instead  of 
arousing  his  mother's  ire,  ns  might  have  been  expected,  seemed  to 
gratify  her  pride,  as  she  said  approvingly, 

"  H<J.'S  a  real  Fitzjainos,  Eddy  is  !  All  my  family  had  that  high 
spirit.  There's  no  Sterling  in  Mm!  Here,  Lisle,  drink  this  warm 
milk,  one  can't  let  you  starve  to  death,  if  only  for  the  looks  of  it." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  17 

"  Can't  you  speak  kind  to  the  boy  when  he's  sick  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Sterling,  interfering  for  the  first  time.  "  What  can  I  give  you,  my 
little  son  ?" 

"  Nothing,  thank  you,  father.  It  hurts  so  in  here  I  don't  feel  like 
eating." 

Mrs.  Sterling  gave  another  glance  which  plainly  said,  "  for  shame, 
•baby;"  and  sliding  down  from  the  table,  he  went  back  to  the  fire 
and  sat  down  by  Pompey,  who  lifted  his  pitying  dog  face  up  at  him 
as  if  he  alone  could  enter  into  and  appreciate  his  feulinga* 

Lisle  understood  him  as  if  he  had  spoken,  and  softly  stroked  his 
long-,  silky  ears,  trying  for  his  sake  to  summon  up  a  smile  of  reas- 
surance. 

The  old  lady  came  back  to  her  chair  in  the  chimney  corner,  and 
resuming  her  favorite  posture,  commenced — 

"  Poor  lady,  poor  lady,  you're  always  undone  I 
When  breakfast  is  over  you  feel  you've  had  none, 
And  if  of  strong  tea  you  don't  have  Borne, 
You'd  ought  to  have  a  little  good  o-pi-um." 

"  Han't  you  had  enough  breakfast,  mother?"  asked  Mr.  Sterling. 

"  Oh.  yes,  yes ;  I  just  compose  poetry  to  exercise  my  mind.  In  the 
estate  I'm  about  to  enter  into,  poetry  is  so  soothing  to  the  feelings ! 
I'm  privately  informed  that  Lydy,  there,  was  sent  down  with  a  gift 
for  making  poetry  ;  but  it  has  been  took  away  from  her,  for  some 
heavy  sin  she  committed  agin  them  as  she  left  behind  her  in  the  fog.'' 

"  What  fog  is  that  you're  always  telling  about?''  asked  Mrs.  Ster- 
ling, carefully  wiping  up  with  a  bit  of  bread  the  little  patches  of 
fried  apple  left  here  and  there  clinging  to  the  dish,  by  way  of  a  last 
saving  installment  to  her  already  liberal  meal. 

•'Why,  the  fog  we  all  go  floating  around  in,  maybe  a  thousand 
year,  before  we're  let  down  onto  the  earth.  We  have  to  go  bsick  into 
that  fog,  after  we  come  down  the  first  time,  to  be  superannuated 
down ;  you  know  as  fast  as  we  grow  old  we  have  to  be  made  down 
small  again.  That  is,  you've  been  made  down  small  again,  superan- 
nuated down,  three  times,  because  you've  been  long  on  the  earth." 

Mr.  Sterling  turned  his  chair  slowly  around  from  the  table,  and 
said  with  an  unusually  severe  air,  "I've  often  told  you,  mother,  I 
wish  you  wouldn't  go  over  all  that  nonsense  before  the  children. 
Human  natur  is  wicked  enough  without  having  any  such  stuff 
crammed  into  its  head.  Whut  it  don't  study  up  in  the  way  of  un- 
scripteral  infidelity,  an't  necessary  to  be  suggested.  Wife,  are  the 
boys  going  to  meeting  to-day  ?" 


IS  TUB  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLABS. 

"  Yes,  of  course.  Don't  they  have  to  go  every  Sunday,  rain  or 
shine  ?  Why  not  to-day,  pray  ?" 

"  It's  too  cold  for  the  hor»es  to  stand  out,  to-d;iy ;  besides,  one  of 
'ein  has  got  a  bad  cough,  now.  I  don't  think  Lisle  ought  to  go  to- 
day, anyway.1' 

"  Nonsense  !     He  grunts  and  whines  all  the  time  over  something 
or  other;  and  you  dou't  mean  to  let  him  grow  up  a  heathen,  do 
j  you  ?" 

|  "  Fazer, fazer,"  interrupted  Eddy  with  unusual  animation,  "  what's 
the  use  goin'  to  a  cold  meetiu'  tc>  sleep  ?  Don't  he  hurt  you  to  nod 
so,  and  wouldn't  you  like  it,  to  lie  on  a  nice  warm  settee  to  home's 
house  ?  Li  and  I'll  keep  real  still,  and  grau'ma'll  preach  to  you  till 
the  nods  come.  Hello  ;  here's  Dr.  Kelley  come,  with  lota  o'  sheeps' 
skins  in  his  sleigh." 

All  eyes  now  turned  to  the  window,  and  Mr-.  Sterling  stirred  the 
fire  into  a  brighter  blaze,  and  pushed  Pompey  unceremoniously  from 
his  station  by  Lisle,  to  make  room  for  the  doctor,  who  now  entered, 
bright  and  cheerful  from  the  bracing  air  through  which  he  had 
driven  half  concealed  by  the  warm  fur  robes  Eddy  had  pronounced 
"  sheeps'  skins." 

"  Good  morning,  good  morning  all.  Glad  to  see  you,  Sterling. 
How  are  you,  grandmother?" 

"  He,  he,  he  !  I  didn't  know  I  had  so  fine  a  grandchild,"  laughed 
the  old  lady,  and  then  added  seriously,  "I  'spose,  though,  you 
might  o'  been  down  small  the  last  time  I  saw  you,  before." 

"  That's  the  old  lady's  way — pretending  not  to  know  folks  from 
one  day  to  the  next,'1  explained  Mrs.  Sterling  apologetically,  as 
she  drew  up  a  chair  for  the  doctor,  and  thus  made  an  occasion  to 
cast  a  warning  glance  upon  the  old  lady,  whose  loquacity  obediently 
subsided. 

"  Well,  Lisle,  how  are  you  to-day.  Better,  eh  ?"  and  he  lifted  the 
boy  to  his  knee,  and  smoothed  his  hair  in  the  tender  way  Lisle  always 
loved. 

A  quick  flushing  and  puling  crossed  the  little  face  as  he  glanced 
up  at  the  doctor,  and  the  dark  eyes  wore  a  troubled  expression, 
which,  however,  soon  died  out,  and  he  leant  his  head  contentedly 
rgainst  the  doctor's  bresist,  and  twiued  his  fingers  in  and  out  among 
the  little  chains  which  formed  the  watch-guard  decorating  his  satin 
vest. 

i:  Always  speak  when  you're  spoken  to,  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Ster- 
ling. "  You  are  better  to-day,  an't  you?" 


TIIE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POKLAES.  19 

Thus  adjured,  Lisle  glanced  shyly  up  at  the  doctor's  face  and 
no  ided  assent. 

"  What  ever  ails  the  boy  this  morning,  that  he  can't  speak !"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Sterling  impatiently.  "He's  generally  free  enough 
with  his  gabble  when  you  come ;  and  no\v  not  a  word  out  of  him." 

A  shadow  of  pain  crossed  the  doctor's  face,  as  in  the  child's  un- 
u^u-il  silence  he  read  the  strongest  confirmation  of  his  fears  as  to 
that  overheard  conversation  of  the  preceding  evening;  and  holding 
him  more  closely  to  his  breast,  he  said, 

'•Don't  worry  the  boy.  His  lungs  pain  him,  I  am  sure.  This  cold, 
bleak  place  will  be  his  death.'1 

'•  I  know  it's  bad  for  him,"  replied  Mr.  Sterling,  "  but  I  don't  know 
what's  best  to  be  done.  I'd  send  him  to  brother  Jonathan's,  over  the 
hill  there;  but  he's  got  such  a  snarl  of  his  own  children  that  his 
wife's  beside  herself  a'uiost,  and  everything's  topsy-turvey  day  and 
night.  I  don't  know  " — 

"  I'll  tell  you,  then,  friend  Sterling  ;  let  me  take  him  home  for  the 
winter.  My  wife  wants  him,  and  it  will  be  much  more  convenient 
for  me  to  attend  him  there.  He  will  need  the  best  of  looking  after, 
all  winter." 

"Why,  you  seel  could  eas'er  make  it  all  right  with  Jonathan, 
when  he  wants  grinding  done  at  the  mill.  Work  an't  like  paying 
out  cash." 

"  Don't  mention  that.  We've  potatoes  enough  for  the  winter,  and 
if  we  hadn't,  the  few  he  will  eat  wouldn't  make  any  difference.  In- 
deed, my  wife  will  feel  hurt  if  you  speak  of  paying  anything  for 
him.  What  do  .you  sny,  Lisle  ?  Would  you  like  to  live  with  us  ?" 
.  A  quick,  glad  light  flnshed  over  his  face  in  reply,  and  again  tho 
wistful  eyes  gazed  into  the  doctor's. 

Dr.  Kelley's  heart  beat  quicker  as  he  read  the  look,  and  involun- 
tarily he  bent  and  kissed  the  boy's  forehead.  Mrs.  Sterling  had 
furtively  watched  it  all,  and  with  an  air  of  well  studied  amazement 
she  exclaimed, 

"I  declare!  it's  wonderful,  the  understanding  there  seems  to  be 
between  you  and  that  child  !  I  hope  you'll  make  him  as  good  and 
honefet  a  man  as  you  are,  since  he  takes  after  you  more  than  he  does 
me,  nor  yet  his  father  theie.  You'll  lose  your  boy,  Mr.  Sterling." 

Lisle  turned  a  glance  upon  the  thin  figure  bent  into  premature 
old  age,  and  the  narrow,  unintellectual  face  opposite,  and  then  upon 
the  prepossessing  exterior  of  the  doctor,  in  an  evident  mental  com- 
parison which  it  needed  no  filial  affection  to  explain,  or  account  for. 


20  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

Yet  Mr.  Sterling  was,  in  his  -weak  way,  kind  to  the  boy,  and, 
moved  by  an  impulse  of  gratitude,  Lisle  slid  down  from  the  doctor's 
knee,  :md  slipping  his  hand  into  the  hard  palm  of  the  young  old 
man,  who  had  not  answered  his  wife's  last  observation,  said  gently, 

"I  won't  go  away  from  you  at  all  if  you  don't  like  me  to.  You 
are  always  good  to  me,  and  I  love  you.' 

'•  YLS,  my  son  I  hope  so  ;  but  I  think  you'll  be  better  off  at  Dr. 
Kel.ey's  ;  so,  if  your  mother  thinks  best,  you  may  go  " 

"  But  I  don't  think  best.  I  don't  believe  in  sending  my  children 
away  from  home  to  be  raised.  He'll  live  it  through,  here,  I'll  war- 
rant"'." 

"  Don't  mind  about  your  clothes  and  things  to-day.  Til  bring 
them  down  to  you  to-morrow,  as  I'm  going  by  that  way,"  said  Mr. 
Sterling  as  if  his  wife  had  not  spoken ;  for  it  was  noticeable  that 
though  he  always  asked  her  opinion,  he  was  never  at  all  influenced 
by  it.  Perhaps  she  herself  took  advantage  of  this  well  known  pe- 
culiarity, to  indulge  in  a  little  opposition,  not  attended  wit-h  any 
consequences  in  the  present,  and  liable  to  end  in  a  species  of  triumph 
if  the  unlucky  hour  ever  arrived  in  which  she  could  offer  the  conso- 
lations of  "I  told  you  so,"  for  which,  like  most  people,  she  had  a 
proclivity  at  proper  seasons. 

"  Hurrah,"  cried  Eddy,  tossing  his  cap  in  air  as  the  point  was  thu» 
decided.  '  . 

"  I  hope,  Eddy,  you  are  not  so  glad  as  all  that  to  get  rid  of  your 
brother,"  said  Mrs.  Sterling,  vainly  striving  to  suppress  a  little  ex- 
ultation in  her  voice. 

"Yes  I  am  too!  Ma's  real  mean  to  poor  Li,  doctor;  she  spank 
him  when  he  sick  and  can't  lie  still;  don't  her,  Li?  and  this  List 
eatin's,  didn't  her  make  you  eat  when  you  couldn't ;  and  don't  like 
you  all  the  time !  £ay,  Li ?  now  you  run  off  and  ntver  come  to  homes 
house  any  more  at  all!  I  isn't  sick,  I'll  run  away  for  you.  Yes,  Li !'' 
and  the  little  fists  clenched  themselves  ambitiously  over  the  happy 
suggestion. 

"  Only  to  see  how  ungrateful  children  can-be!"  sighed  Mrs.  Ster- 
ling, taking  Lisle's  cloak  and  cap  from  the  nail  where  they  hung 
when  off  duty,  and  detaching  from  another  a  pair  of  red  woollen 
mittens  linked  together  by  a  cord  made  to  suspend  them  round  his 
neck ;  and  he  was  soon  ready  for  his  ride. 

"  There,  that  will  do  nicely,"  said  the  doctor,  lifting  him  in  his 
arms  to  cany  him  to  the  sleigh,  between  whirh  and  the  house  the 
snow  lay  heavy  and  deep.  '•  I've  some  nice  buffalo-robes  to  wrap 


TUB  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  21 

him  up  in,  and  we  shan't  be  fifteen  minutes  going  home.  Let  Eddy 
come  down  and  spend  the  day  with  his  brother,  as  often  as  possible. 
Well,  what  is  it,  little  fellow  ?"  for  Lisle  was  pulling  at  his  collar  to 
attract  attention. 

" Please,  sir,  mayn't  Pompey  come  with  us?    See  how  his  face 
begs ;  that's  the  way  Pornpey  talks.     He  sleeps  on  uiy  bed  all  night, 
and  is  just  like  a  little  brother." 
,    "  Yes,  of  course  he  may.    Come  on,  brother  Pompey." 

There  was  a  whole  Gloria  in  Excelsis  in  the  glad  bark  with  which 
Pompey  sprang  through  the  open  door,  never  stopping  for  the  good- 
byes quickly  spoken  as  the  cold  air  rushed  in  to  do  battle  with  the 
glowing  coals,  vainly  striving  to  impart  a  comfortable  degree  of 
warmth  to  the  open  room. 

"  Providence  grant  this  freak  of  yours  mny  turn  out  well,"  sighed 
Mrs.  Sterling  as  the  door  closed.  "  It's  plain  as  the  day,  the  boy 
thinks  more  of  Doctor  Kelley  now,  than  he  does  of  his  own  kin,  and 
the  Lord  knows  how  it  will  all  turn  outl'' 

"  Yes,  he  does  know,  and  that's  enough  for  now,"  replied  her  hus- 
band, as,  unfolding  last  evening's  unfinished  newspaper,  he  resumed 
its  perusal,  and  thinking  "  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor,"  Mrs. 
Sterling  said  no  more.  As  for  Eddy,  unconquered  even  by  his  pro- 
phetic visions  of  loneliness,  now  that  both  brother  and  dog  were 
gone,  he  looked  steadfastly  into  the  fire  for  a  musing  five  minutes, 
and  then  fell  to  whistling  practice,  in  his  ambition  to  "  do  "  his  first 
tune.  ' 


22  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS. 


iOHAPTBB  IIL 

THK  events  of  that  winter  formed  the  first  real  glimpses  of  sun- 
shine that  had  ever  dawned  upon  Lisle's  little  life.  Nursed  and 
cared  for  by  kind  Mrs.  Kelley,  who  embodied  all  his  childish  ideas 
of  motherhood,  he  often  wandered  among  the  romantic  imaginings 
from  which  no  childhood  is  altogether  free,  at  times  quite  working 
himself  up  to  the  conviction  that  this  was  his  own  real  mother,  who 
in  some  unavoidable  and  inexplicable  manner  had  been  compelled 
temporarily  to  deliver  him  into  the  keeping  of  the  woman  at  the 
mill  house,  who,  under  the  title  of  his  mother,  disliked  and  misused 
him ;  and  he  quite  revelled  in  the  fancy  that  this,  his  temporary  re- 
turn to  his  true  home,  might  grow  into  a  lasting  reality. 

The  little  baby  who  crowed  her  wildest  on  his  lap,  and  played  for 
hours  raised  to  his  level  by  her  high  ohair,  at  the  table  so  gloriously 
stocked  with  pretty  books  and  pictures,  did  not  she,  too,  seem  to 
recognize  that  they  were  linked  together  by  kindred  blood,  and 
foreordained  for  companions  ?  Speculative  as  these  musings  were, 
they  were  the  pleasantest  among  the  many  which  crowded  upon  hia 
brain  as  he  sat  meditatively  through  the  days  when  he  was  most 
free  from  pain,  for,  though  bis  health  improved  under  better  caro, 
he  was  still  delicate,  and  often  suffering. 

Often  and  often  his  mind  reverted  to  that  fatal  dialogue  between 
the  doctor  and  his  mother,  striving  to  take  in  and  fully  comprehend 
all  it  involved  of  mystery.  The  sudden  shock  of  what  he  did  com- 
prehend, had  at  the  time  overpowered  him  ;  but  in  a  vague  way  hu 
felt  that  this  was  not  all,  and,  as  it'  spurred  on  by  a  relentless  fate, 
he  thought  and  thought  over  it,  feeling  that  inexplicably  link"  ' 
with  it  was  a  something,  which  if  confessed  to  the  world  would 
make  his  mother  scorned  by  it,  and  himself — he  knew  not  what ! 
Painfully  precocious  as  he  wa?,  he  thought,  too,  pityingly  of  Miles 
Sterling,  the  man  whom  the  world  believed  and  called  his  father, 
and  yet  whom  he  now  knew  held  no  claim  to  the  name.  An  unap- 
peasing  sense  of  wrong  oppressed  him,  and  a  feeling  that  he  himself 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  TOrLAES.  23 

was  an  agent  in  it;  fevered  him  through  the  resfleps  nights  when  ho 
was  most  pressed  by  it. 

Had  not  his  mother,  in  referring  to  him,  said  that  if  Mr.  Sterling 
knew  the  truth  he  would  kill  him  ?  Then  was  lie,  too,  guilty,  and  if 
so,  how  ?  It  was  a  tangled  web. 

Then  an  instinct  of  profound  compassion  took  possession  of  him 
as  he  thought  of  this  narrow-minded,  undemonstrative  man,  who 
yet  manifested  so  much  parental  regard  for  him,  and  who,  whatever 
his  failings,  was  an  honest  man,  and  uncompromising  in  his  ideas 
of  right  and  wrong.  He,  of  all,  seemed  most  to  be  pitied,  yet  his 
own  wife  had  spoken  of  despising  him  I 

Yet,  puzzled  and  troubled  as  he  was  by  all  thi?,  an  unconquerable 
reserve  forbade  him  to  mention  it  even  to  the  doctor,  whom  he  loved 
with  an  all  absorbing  affection,  and  not  the  most  remote  allusion 
was  made  by  either,  to  the  topic  that  was  often  present  in  the  mind 
of  each. 

Often,  raising  his  eyes  from  his  books,  the  doctor  met  that  trou- 
bled, questioning  look  he  so  well  knew  how  to  interpret  dating  from 
the  time  when  he  had  seen  it  first,  and  the  sens-it  ion  it  gave  him 
was  one  of  mingled  pain  and  pleasure.  Sincerely  attached  to  the 
boy,  as  much  for  what  was  really  winning  and  noble  in  his  nature, 
as  from  that  parental  affection,  inevitable  though  unacknowledged, 
he  yearned  to  clasp  him  to  his  heart  and  feel  the  tie  acknowledged. 
Yet  both  judgment  and  affection  restrained  him.  It  involved  too 
much,  and  consequences  might  be  endless  and  fatal.  The  boy  was 
BO  young,  tliere  yet  remained  to  him  some  years  of  ignorance  of  nil 
the  shameful  tale.  When  coming  years,  with  their  additional 
knowledge,  should  tear  away  the  last  remnant  ot  the  flimsy  veil  be- 
tween him  and  it,  then  he  would  tell  it  all,  and  plead  for  such  love 
and  respect  as  extenuating  circumstances  might  award  him. 

So  the  doctor  braved  the  searching  eyes  as  he  might,  or  turned 
away  from  them,  satisfied  that  the  plain  path  of  affection-prompted 
duty,  was  sufficient  for  him  to  tread,  till  circumstances  should  force 
him  into  a  wider  field.  As  one  standing  before  an.  open  powder- 
magazine  feels  that  at  any  instant  a  falling  spark  may  launch  him 
into  the  unknown,  the  doctor  waittd  for  what  fate  might  inflsct, 
confessing  that  the  hand  which  should  drop  for  him  the  exploding 
spark,  would  perform  an  act  of  human  justice;  and  only  wishing 
that  with  it,  the  wrong  might  be  wiped  out,  and  his  atonement  blot 
from  Lisle's  life  the  shame  and  suffering  BO  unjustly  forced  upon  if. 
Yet  the  doctor  felt  that  he  himself  had  been  as  much  tinned  against 


21  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

as  sinning.  Lydia  Fitzjames,  when  he  first  met  her,  was  more  than 
his  equal  in  worldly  guile  and  experience  ;  and  while  he  now  made 
no  attempt  to  cast  his  share  of  responsibility  upon  her,  retrospec- 
tion showed  him  how  he  had  been  lured  on,  step  by  step,  by  a  de- 
bigning  woman  whom  self-respect  forbade  him  to  make  his  wife 
when  circumstances  awoke  him,  too  late,  to  a  sense  of  his  situation. 

Miles  Sterling  had  entered  upon  the  scene  at  a  propitious  mo- 
ment, and,  glad  of  any  loop-hole  for  escape  from  impending  ruin,  he 
had  helped  to  influence  and  accomplish  the  marriage,  with  little 
pity  for  the  victim  thus  offered  up  in  his  stead. 

Never  had  he  forgotten  the  scene  between  them  when  the  baffled 
woman  learned  that  her  scheme  to  entrap  him  for  a  husband  had 
failed.  Plain  words  were  spoken  by  each,  and  the  conscience! esa 
character  of  the  woman  stood  out  in  characters  from  which  he 
turned  away,  shocked  and  disgusted.  Once  for  all  he  taught  her 
that  he  recognized  it  all,  and  that  though  he  might  be  her  tool,  he 
would  never  be  her  victim;  and  her  upbraidings  ceased  when  she 
saw  they  were  vain.  But  she  had  never  forgiven  it,  and  never  would, 
and  she  hated  the  child  who  had  failed  to  perform  its  mission,  and 
wreaked  upon  it  the  wrath  that  glowed  ever  in  her  heart  as  she  re- 
alized the  utter  failure  of  all  which  even  in  her  union  with  Miles 
Sterling  had  seemed  alluring. 

The  first  retribution  for  an  unjust  act  overtook  the  doctor  when 
he  learned  that  the  man  whom  he  had  lured  into  the  breach  yawn- 
ing for  himself,  was  really  worthy  of  esteem  for  many  qualities  which 
redeemed  his  parsimony  and  narrow  mindedness ;  and  coals  of  fire 
seemed  heaped  upon  his  head  as  he  saw  this  man  love  and  care  for 
his  unowned  child,  and  bearing  the  tender  name  for  which  his  heart 
ached  unappeasingly ! 

Far  better  for  his  peace  of  mind,  had  he  never  learned  to  respect 
Miles  Sterling ;  far  better  had  no  deep  affection  thrilled  his  heart 
for  the  little  boy  whom  he  could  never  claim,  and  whom  he  daily 
saw  suffering  for  the  sins  of  others — himself  among  the  foremost. 
His  punishment  seemed  heavier  than  he  could  bear ;  and  it  was  this 
care  that  had  sprinkled  his  brown  locks  with  gray,  as  self-respect 
felt  many  a  stab  of  shame  and  agony  under  the  ever  recurring  query, 
how  many  who  called  him  "friend,"  and  blessed  him  for  "a  truly 
good  man,''  would  offer  him  the  hand  of  fellowship  did  they  know 
of  him  what  he  knew.  Conscientious  as  he  was,  he  felt  himself  an 
impostor,  and  none  guessed  how  restlessly  he  goaded  himself  on  to 


.THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAES.  25 

all  good  works,  as  if  they  could  in  some  way  make  the  balance  weigh 
more  evenly  between  him  and  the  world. 

Alas,  no  !  In  a  small  community,  where  everything  is  known  and 
discussed,  no  secret  deed  remained  unapplauded,  as  even  one  offset 
upon  the  score  against  him,  and  strive  as  he  would,  he  could  never 
set  the  matter  any  nearer  right  with  his  own  conscience.  He  was 
the  man  whom  society  delighted  to  honor,  and  he  must  go  on,  feeling 
himself  a  hypocrite,  to  the  end  of  his  life.  It  was  a  retribution 
above  all  others  best  calculated  to  oppress  the  doctor's  heart,  and  at 
the  times  when  most  savagely  galled  by  it,  he  felt  that  he  thus  earned 
the  right  to  all  that  was  comforting  in  the  interchange  of  affection 
between  little  Lisle  and  himself.  Could  he  only  receive  it  feeling 
that  the  child  knew  all  he  was  bestowing!  Time  would  soon  teach 
him  this;  and  the  doctor  waited,  making  the  mo-t  of  wh.it  was  his 
while  suffered  to  retain  it,  wishing  for,  yet  shrinking  from  what  that 
future  with  its  revelations  might  bequeath  him  as  so  much  belong- 
ing to  him  in  free  gift  from  one,  at  least,  to  whom  he  was  no  hypo- 
crite. 

"  Really,  William,"  said  Mrs.  Kelley  one  day  as  the  doctor  ssvt  ex- 
plaining a  large  book  of  pictures  to  Lisle,  "you  have  petted,  and 
affiliated  with  that  child,  till  he  is  growing  to  look  like  you!  His 
mouth  is  the  fac-simile  of  yours,  and  his  eyes  have  the  same  dark 
blue;  only  yours  are  bright  and  sparkling,  and  his  are  languid  and 
heavy.  If  his  hair  were  cut  and  brushed  like  yours,  you  would  see, 
.too,  that  your  foreheads  are  not  unlike.  It  strikes  me  that  he  imy 
l)e  your  twin  brother,  belated  in  'the  fog,'  or  '  superannuated  down 
small,'  as  old  Mrs.  Sterling  has  it,"  and  she  laughed  at  the  conceit, 
and  then  added  in  the  same  tone,  "I  think  I'll  call  him  'Little 
Doctor,'  after  this,  in  compliment  to  his  having  copied  so  many  of 
your  features ;  and  really,  now  I  think  of  it,  why  won't  it  be  a  good 
idea  to  read  him  Tip  as  an  M.  D.?  His  father  will  consent  to  his 
pursuing  any  vocation  not  likely  to  levy  upon  his  own  purse,  and 
you  could  do  so  much  for  him  in  this." 

"  You  calculate  very  confidently  my  dear.  How  do  you  know 
the  boy  may  not  prefer  to  watch  the  mill  wheel,  like  his  father  be- 
fore him,  or  even  to  smite  the  anvil  like  many  another  honest  man  ?'' 

"  How  can  you  suppose  it !  Talent  looks  out  from  every  line  of 
his  face,  and  such  a  head  was  never  meant  to  be  roasted  near  a 
blacksmith's  forge.  •  I  could  not  love  the  child  better  if  he  were  my 
oAvn,  and  I  want  him  to  become  a  smart  man  and  a  good  one,  like 
you." 


26! 

*'  But,  my  little  wife,  I'm  no*  good.  This  is  all  a  popular  delusion. 
I  hope  Lisle  will  shun  the  pitfalls  into  which  I  havo  stumbled,  and 
be  a  f;ir  better  man  thaii  1  ever  w:is.  I  have  sometimes  hoped  ho 
may  feel  a  preference  for  iny  profession,  and  it  he  docs  I  will  gladly 
help  him  in  it.  But  by-and-bye,  when  we  may  have  boys  of  our 
own,  you  will  become  jealous  of  poor  little  Li^le,  whom  you  lovo 
now  for  the  woman's  reason — find  it's  a  good  one,  too — that  you  take 
care  of  him  and  feel  sorry  for  him.  You'll  love  him  less  as  he  be- 
comes less  dependent." 

"  Why,  William  !  how  can  you  think  so  ?  Come  here,  Little  Doc- 
tor, and  speak  for  yourself.  What  will  you  do  when  you  become  a 
man,  like  this  old  croaker  in  the  arm  chair  who  wants  to  make  a 
blacksmith  of  you?" 

"I'll  take  care  of  you,  and  him,  and  little  sissy,  and  give  Eddy 
lots  of  new  tops  and  jack-knives.1' 

"Very  right;  but  Eddy  will  be  too  large  for  tops,  then,  and  you'll 
have  to  make  the  money  it  requires  to  take  care  of  sissy  and  us. 
Won't  you  learn  to  make  sick  people  well  again,  and  keep  little 
children  fom  dying  away  from  their  mama's? 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I'll  be  a  doctor.  I  wouldn't  like  all  the  littlo 
boys  and  girls  to  cry  when  they  see  the  pill-bags  coming;  and  Jim- 
my Lucas  says  the  doctor  has  carried  so  many  baldes  to  his  house, 
that  his  '  old  man  ' — that's  what  he  calls  his  pa — swears  awful  every 
time  he  comes  with  another;  and  Jimmy  says  he  hates  a  doctor 
wor.-c  tlir.n  he  does  a  minister,  or  anything  1" 

"Thcr .-.'•  l-.U'4'hed  the  doctor  to  his  wife.  "  See  what  you  get  by 
trying  to  '  bend  (he  twig.'  Better  let  him  wait  till  tlu-  spirit  moves 
him  ;  and  sifter  all  there's  time  enough,  as  he  has  a  worLl  c.f  tilings 
to  learn  before  he  comes  to  that.'' 

"Then,  sir.  if  you  please,  why  ant  I  learning  some  of  them  ?  I  can 
stop  w'.cn  my  ea  1  aches,  and  I  don't  thinlc  I'll  die  and  cheat  you 
out  of  all  your  trouble.1' 

"  Wh  .t  put  siich  an  il(  a  in  your  head,  child  ?" 

'•  T,,at'>  what  mo'luT  always  said.     She  s  id  '  what's  the  u=e  wa-t- 

inir  money  on  a  child  that'll  die  and  cheat  you  out  of  it  if  he  takes 

th    notion  ?'  so,  you  see,  I  never  asked  anv  more.     Fred,  in  the  mill, 

I  me  my  a  b  c's,  find  I  Can  spell  a  little.     Pompey  knows  more 

tlrm  i  do.  though  — he's  got  good  dog  Laming,  and  I'm  just  a.  dunce 

.     A'n'tthat  true,  Pompey 

Thus  appealed  t;>,  Pompey  placed  Irs  nose  c  utklently  in  his 
youug  master's  hand,  as  if  obligingly  willing  to  assent  to  any  propc- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  27 

• 

sition  coming  from  such,  a  quarter,  or,  perhaps,  grateful  for  his  own 
reward  of  merit. 

Lisle's  evident  desire  to  be  upon  the  road  of  learning,  resulted  in 
Mrs.  Kelley  installing  herself  as  his  preceptress,  and  few  were  the 
days  in  which  he  was  induced  to  avow  himself  too  unwell  to  be 
taught.  Eddy  often  spent  whole  days  at  the  doctor's  house,  upon 
which  occasions  he  divided  his  attentions  impartially  between  the 
baby,  whom  he  christened  "Dummy,"  in  compliment  to  her  limited 
command  of  speech,  and  Pompey,  who  was  inseparable  from  his  mas- 
ter, sharing  with  him,  and  evidently  thinking  he  bore  an  equal  part 
of  the  labor  at  each  lesson,  so  that  it  was  a  juvenile  boast  that  Pomp 
already  knew  as  much  as  the  village  justice,  and  would  be  run  for 
President  if  he  didn't  look  sharp — an  awful  penalty  which  might 
well  appall  any  rash  adventurer  on  the  highway  to  knowledge. 

Fired  by  a  kindred  ambition,  Eddy  hoarded  all  stray  pennies 
which  fell  to  his  lot  in  reward  for  extra  chip-basket  filling,  and  when, 
after  some  task  far  too  severe  for  his  years,  he  received  a  whole  six- 
pence, he  was  far  more  ela'  ed  by  it  than  by  the  title  of  "  little  major  " 
bestowed  upon  him  by  his  father,  who  boasted,  in  the  pride  of  his 
heart  that  his  son  was  "  no  shirk."  This  hard-earned  treasure  was 
expended  in  the  purchase  of  unlimited  "  Eobin  Hoods,''  and  "Punch 
and  Judys,''  whom  he  liked  all  tha  oetter  after  "Dummy"  had 
mussed  into  a  not  too  dressed  up  condition  ;  and  he  really  shouted 
in  delight  when  that  bellicose  young  lady  "  hit  Punch  a  rap  in  the 
63*6  "  in  return  for  the  one  he  administered  Judy  to  quench  her  ap- 
petite for  pie.  Not  fully  appreciating  her  own  success  in  meting  out 
justice,  ''Dummy"  opened  her  mouth  and  swelled  herself  out  hard 
in  a  vigorous  shout  by  way  of  keeping  company,  which  intellectual 
feat  had  an  impressive  effect  upon  her  admirer,  as  proof  of  great  ju- 
venile precocity,  and  if  the  shake  of  any  dog's  tail  ever  evidenced 
internal  laughter,  Pompey,  too,  was  overflowing  with  appreciation. 

The  winter  passed  by  all  too  quickly  for  the  doctor  and  his  family, 
loth  as  they  were  to  yield  Lisle  up  again  to  his  loveless  life  in  the 
mill-house,  and  he  already  shrank  with  an  unuttered,  but  unconquer- 
able dread,  from  all  he  was  so  soon  to  resume.  Fully  appreciating 
the  injustice  he  suffered  from  a  mother  who  often  declared  her  hatred 
of  him,  he  was  yet  too  small  and  weak  openly  to  rebel  against  it, 
and  even  a  remonstrance  from  his  lips  increased  his  suffering. 

Shuddering  recollections  of  dark  closets  in  which  he  had  been  im- 
prisoned, and  once  forgotten  through  a  long  cold  night  when  Eddy 
was  not  at  home  to  champion  him,  rose  again  before  him,  peopled 


28  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

with  the  myriad  horrible  images  which  danced  before  him  in  the 
rayless  obscurity,  jeering  and  menacing  him  till  he  could  endure  no 
more,  and  was  at  last  taken  out  in  convulsions, — days  of  semi-starva- 
tion which  racked  the  delicate  frame  totally  unfit  for  any  such  dis- 
cipline, but  one  degree  removed  from  heathenism  when  practised 
upon  any  growing  child ;  and,  added  to  all  these,  blows  frequent 
and  severe,  of  whose  very  provocation  he  was  often  ignorant,  yet 
which  a  real  fear  of  threatened  retaliation  farbade  him  to  reveal  to 
his  nominal  father,  who,  had  he  known  of  them,  would  have  sup- 
pressed them  with  a  strong  hand,  from  which  even  his  wife  shrank, 
though  her  only  escape  from  its  power  was  in  Lislc's  fear  of  her. 
Such  were  the  retrospections  which  threw  an  ominous  cloud  over 
tho  future,  and  preyed  upon  his  delicate  health  till  a  real  alaun 
seized  upon  the  doctor's  mind,  and  he  made  one  more  effort  to  get 
him  entirely  under  his  own  custody. 

But  Mr.  Sterling  was  obstinate.  The  boy  should  return  home 
when  the  first  warmer  days  of  spring  should  come  ;  he  did  not  think 
it  right  to  separate  brothers,  and  he  wouldn't  have  his  children 
burdens  upon  any  one.  All  this  he  declared  with  a  determination 
nothing  could  alter,  but  stronger  than  all,  though  unexpressed,  was 
a  jealous  dread,  already  partly  realized,  he  believed — what  would  he 
have  felt  had  he  known  to  what  extent — that  his  child  would  learn 
to  love  another  better  than  himself. 

"  After  all,"  he  concluded,  "I  don't  see  why  the  boy  should  wish 
to  live  away  from  his  own  home.  His  mother  is  here,  and  if  he  had 
the  right  kind  of  a  heart,  he'd  want  stay  with  her,  even  if  he  don't 
think  enough  of  his  father  to  want  to  come  back.  I  don't  see  why 
he  don't  care  more  for  his  mother." 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Sterling;"  replied  the  doctor.  "  It  is  a  delicate 
subject  to  mention,  but  I  must  say  I  often  think  she  herself  is  far 
from  blameless  When  a  child  shows  the  shrinking  fear  of  a  parent 
which  Lisle  cannot  conceal  he  feels  of  her,  there  is  some  strong  rea- 
son for  it.  He  has  told  me  nothing,  nor  would  I  encourage  him  to 
do  so,  but  if  you  will  accept  the  suggestion  of  a  friend,  you  will  keep 
nn  eye  over  him,  and,  above  all,  prevent  a  repetition  of  punishments 
which  he  lias  not  the  strength  to  endure." 

"  I  don't  think  he  ever  received  any  such  ones.  lie  is  most  always 
Bulky  after  any  correction,  and,  as  his  mother  often  snys,  his  health 
won't  give  out  till  his  temper  does.  You  know  what  Solomon  said." 

"Solomon  was  an  old  fooi,"  retorted  the  doctor  nngrily,  then 
ewollowing  his  ire  by  an.  effort,  he  said  more  temperately,  "  you  nro 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  £9 

entirely  mistaken  as  to  the  child  being  sulky.  He  is  reserved,  to  a 
degree  I  never  saw  equalled  in  any. child,  and  in  few  grown  persons. 
It  is  this  very  knowledge  of  how  little  even  you  know  the  boy,  which 
makes  me  so  anxious  to  keep  him  till  he  is  older  and  stronger,  and 
better  able  to  fight  Ids  way  among  trials  of  which  you  do  not  dream. 
If  you  object  to  separating  brothers,  let  me  have  Eddy  too.  I'm 
much  nearer  the  school-house  than  you  are,  and  at  the  summer  term 
they  can  both  commence,  and  go  together.  It  certainly  will  be  a 
relief  to  your  wife,  who  will  have  her  hands  full  enough  without  the 
care  of  them  while  you  are  building." 

"No,  sir,  thank  you.  The  more  she  has  to  do,  the  better  for  her. 
If  it's  so  hard  for  you  to  give  the  boy  up  now,  what  will  it  be  a  year 
from  now  ?  1'il  go  after  him  to-morrow  and  bring  him  home,  where 
he  belongs." 

So,  instead  of  carrying  his  point,  the  last  clays  of  the  child's  stay 
were  curtailed,  and  the  doctor  sat  that  evening  looking  gloomily 
into  the  fire,  with  the  old  pain  tugging  at  his  heart  against  which 
little  Lisle's  head  was  pillowed  as  upon  the  only  anchor  of  protec- 
tion this  world  held  for  him.  His  eyes,  too,  peered  into  the  flicker- 
ing firelight,  through  a  long  silence  employed  by  Mrs.  Kelley  in  some 
last  stitches  upon  his  wardrobe  which  she  hoped  would  prove  a  sug- 
gestion to  Mrs.  Sterling,  who  neither  thought  nor  cared  much  for 
such  little  details.  The  doctor  roused  himself,  and  smoothing  the 
boy's  head,  asked  cheerfully, 

"What  are  you  thinking  all  this  time,  little  fellow  ?" 

"I  don't  want  to  go  atvay  from  you.  Why  can't  I  stay  here  al- 
ways ?  Nobody  loves  me  at  home." 

"  I  think  your  father  loves  you,  Lisle;  don't  you?" 

The  child  raised  his  earnest  eyes  to  the  doctor's  face,  and  his  lips 
quivered,  but  not  a  word  passed  them.  Moved  by  an  irresistible  im- 
pulse, the  doctor  with  both  hands  held  the  flushed  little  face  up  to- 
ward his  own,  looked  with  unutterable  affection  into  the  dark  blue 
eyes  all  swimming  in  tears,  and.  covering  cheeks  and  lips  with  fervent 
kisses,  as  suddenly  put  him  down  and  walked  to  the  door — hesitated 
there,  and  then  returning  laid  his  hand  upon  the  child's  head  and 
said  sadly, 

"Poor  little  fellow;  this  is  a  hard  world  for  us  all — doubly  hard 
for  you  !  Be  a  man,  always,  and  when  you  need  a  friend  in  anything, 
come  to  me.  Remember — always.^ 

A  quick  sob,  the  first  he  had  ever  heard  from  him,  fell  on  the  doc- 
tor's ear ;  and  turning  silently,  he  l«fc  the  room. 


30  THE   IIOTTSE   T.^TTTXD   TTTr, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

B  summer  days  drew  on,  and  the  new  house  was  rj.pi.iiy  pro- 
gressing. Banks  of  earth  lay  in  irregular  masses  where  it  had  been 
tossed  in  excavating  for  a  cellar,  and  long  rows  of  lumber  locked 
fingers  over  the  rail  fence  that  supported  it  for  a  due  amount  of 
"seasoning."  The  ''raising  day "  arrived.  They  were  early  astir 
in  the  mill-house,  and  having  made  a  tour  of  observation  to  the 
pantry  filled  with  the  huge  loaves  of  orthodox  "raising  cuke,"  to 
make  sure  it  had  not  been  spirjtcd  away  during  the  night,  Mrs. 
Sterling  hurried  breakfast,  that  it  might  be  over  and  done  with  be- 
fore the  neighbors,  relations,  and  friends,  should  assemble,  as  in  duty 
bound,  to  lend  a  helping  hand  toward  the  rearing  of  the  new  domicil. 

The  little  boys  and  Pompey  ran  busily  around  the  yard,  seized  by 
the  contagion  an  important  day  spreads  all  through  a  household, 
and  even  the  old  lady  rocked  more  vigorously  in  her  high-backed 
chair  as.  she  plied  the  knitting-needles  held  to  unwilling  servico 
upon  a  long-legged  cotton  stocking  grotesquely  distorted  by  sudden 
and  unmistakable  cramps  relieved  by  a  liberal  widening,  and  evi- 
dencing each,  day's  progress  in  a  streak  of  tight  or  of  loose  knitting, 
according  as  she  had  felt  the  affliction  of  the  family  parsimony,  or 
given  rein  to  a  liberal  fancy. 

Mrs.  Sterling's  restless  eyes  detected  some  irregularity  in  the  loop- 
ing and  dropping  of  the  stitches,  and  possessing  herself  of  the  mal- 
formation, she  exclaimed, 

"  For  the  land  sake,  what  are  you  doing  here !  The  thing  is  pulled 
in  an  1  let  out,  and  puckered  and  twisted,  till  a  lawyer's  foot  couldn't 
find  its  way  into  it !': 

"  Why  ma'am,  I  was  privately  informed  that  I  must  put  a  new 
ctitch  in  the  instep,  by  way  of  adornment,  so  Tve  been  con'rivin' 
and  practisin'  on  one,  but  it  don't  seem  to  come.  I  don't  like  open- 
work stockins',  they  take  so  much  sorubbiii'  of  the  feet  to  set  em  off 
well.  I  widdened  too  much  all  day  yesterday,  what  with  thinkhr 
o'  the  new  house  and  seem'  you  makiu'  so  much  c  ike  ;  and  it  seems 
all  the  navrowin'  in  the  world  won't  get  it  back  into  genteel  shape." 


THE, HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  31 

"You'll  have  to  'superannuate  it  down  small,'  so  ;''  find  drawing 
out  the  needles,  Mrs.  Sterling  proceeded  to  unravel  the  work  with  a 
liberal  hand,  the  old  lady  indignantly  protesting  till  she  saw  it  was 
useless,  and  then  breaking  out  with  her  i'avorite  song  under  all  trib- 
ulations— 

"  Poor  lady,  pool-  Indy,  you're  always  undone," 

finishing  the  lament  with  a  statement  of  the  particular  grievance  in 
hand.  Hosvever,  upon  this  exciting  day  trouble  was  not  to  be  har- 
bored ;  so,  philosophically  retreating  to  her  own  room,  ?he  left  the 
knitting  to  its  fate ;  and  a!'ter  a  vigorous  round  of  shaking  and  dusting 
of  apparel,  she  at  length  reippeared,  serene  in  a  fl-imc  colored  robe 
kept  for  state  occasions,  and  an.  armful  of  ruffled  garments  which 
she  shook  out  one  by  one  and  examined  not  over  complacently. 

"  Now  tell  me,  Lydy,  which  o'  these  Vandykes  do  you  think  '11  be 
most  bicomin'  to  me  for  this  'casion  ?  I'm  informed  that  my  bride- 
groom will  eat  hen.1,  to-day,  disguised  as  a  laborin'  man — though  he's 
u  prince  of  light — and  I  want  him  to  find  me  fine  and  gay." 

"Oh,  clear  out  with  your  '  Vandykes!'  The  finer  and  gayer  you 
arc,  the  worse  you  look!  All  you  Sterlings  have  that  peculiarity. 
You'll  be  a  .sight,  whatever  you  put  on." 

"Enviou<,"  whispered  the  old  lady  to  herself,  and  retiring  with 
the  insulted  capes,  she  made  ha4  toilet  by  the  broken  bit  of  mirror 
in  her  room,  and  endured  an  hour  of  martyrdom  in  searching  and 
pulling  out  the  gray  hairs  mingl'-d  with  her  still  well  preserved 
brown  ones.  It  was  a  tedious  operation,  though  semi-weekly  per- 
formed with  feminine  care,  aud  she  finished  only  as  the  men  assem- 
bled and  commenced  work. 

Despite  the  little  boys'  pleadings  for  a  holiday  upon  this  grand 
climax  of  all  days,  they  w-cre  driven  ofif  to  school,  where  they  fell  into 
d  sgiace  in  the  usual  way;  Lisle,  for  some  unknown  sin  of  omission 
or  commission,  and  Eddy  for  espousing  his  cause  nnd  resenting  tho 
penalty.  Little  heeding  the  schoolmistress'  threat  to  follow  them 
home  and  report  them  in  person  to  their  mother,  they  r  in  home  tlu: 
moment  school  was  dismissed,  hoping  to  be  "in  at  the  death," if 
only  to  see  one  last  beam  lifted  to  its  place  in  the  new  house — but 
the  frame  was  up— rUnromantically  complete — and  Poinpey  seemed 
1o  deprecate  nnd  lament  it,,  as,  meek  and  sympathetic,  he  caine  out 
to  meet  them.  Them  wras.  nothing  for  it  but  'resignation  ;  so,  con- 
soling themselves  with  a  huge  pieco  of  the  "  raising  cake,"  they  seal- 
ed themselves  on  a  sill,  where  they  shared  it  bite  for  bite  with  Pom- 


32  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  TOPI.ARS. 

pey,  who  sat  genteelly  awaiting  Ids  turn,  and  never  took  greedy 
inouthfuls. 

"  Eddy,  do  you  believe  the  school  ma'am  will  come  to-night,  as  sho 
said  she  would  ?"  asked  Lisle,  a  little  troubled. 

"I  don't  know,  she's  just  mean  enough  to,  a'i't  she  ?  If  she  does, 
let's  play  her  a  trick.  By  jimminy,  don't  I  wish  I  could  lick  her ! 
Schoolma'ams  always  ought  to  be  licked  !" 

i%I  wi*li  they'd  baptize  her,  so  she  wouldn't  be  mean  to  me  every 
time  the  boys  do  things.  It  wasu'i,  me  that  put  the  thistle  in  Sally 
Bcebe's  shoe.  It  was  Carry  Frink  did  it.  You  see  she  don't  H!:o 
that  Beebe  girl  putting  on  airs  and  not  going  barefooted  like  th« 
rest  of  us.  Sally,  she  thinks  it's  nicer  to  wear  shoes ;  so  she  wi-ars 
them  ragged  old  things  with  th«  soles  almost  clear  off,  so  that  wlr-ii 
she  sits  down  with  her  heels  a  little  ways  up  from  the  floor  you  c  -n 
see  clean  to  her  toes.  Carry  put  the  thistle  on  'cm,  and  when  sho 
let  her  heels  down,  to  go  into  the  spelling  class, — plunker!  down  sho 
came  on  it,  and  didn't  she  howl  If  I'd  been  Carry,  I'd  have  owned 
Tip  to  it  before  Id  sco  a  boy  whipped  that  didn't  do  it ;  but  when 
she  da'sn't  tell,  I  wasn't  going  to;  and  'cause  the  schoohna'am  saw 
me  laugh — a  boy  couldn't  help  it — she  whipped  me  to  make  it  all 
straight ;  and  now  if  she  comes  and  tells,  ma'll  whip  me  again,  for- 
getting flogged  in  school.  I  can  take  one  licking  well  enough,  but 
when  a  boy  gels  two  for  the  same  thing  he  never  done  at  all,  it's  a 
shame !" 

''I  don't  believe  you'll  catch  it  ngain,  this  time,  'cause  I  got  it,  too, 
to-day;  and  ma  never  licks  mo.  By  jimminy,  there  comes  old 
Schooley,  now,  with  her  yellow  sunbonnet  flying  !" 

Through  the  open  bar-way  came  the  toachcr  with  indignant  stride, 
and  thinking  discretion  the  better  jiart  of  valor  the  boys  stole  off 
jxjid  did  not  return  till  nearly  dark,  thinking  that  by  that  time  t !io 
coast  would  be  clear  of  the  teacher,  and  their  mother's  first  wrath 
abated.  Dire  and  unwelcome  vision !  There  oh  the  settee  re- 
posed the  teacher,  quite  at  home  lor  the  night,  received  as  an  hon- 
oivd  guest  and  regaled  with  all  the  house  afforded. 

Mrs.  Sterling  drew  the  boys  forward  with  no  gentle  hand,  and 
condemning  them,  to  go  supperle>s  to  bed,  dispatched  them  at  once 
whero  they  lay  planning  vengeauce  for  the  morrow,  accompanied  by 
Pompey,  who  seemed  equally  interested  in  their  plan*,  and  looked 
from  one  to  the  other  as  if  fully  weighing  each  suggestion  from  tin* 
bu-y  brains  that  were  at  last  overtaken  by  sleep,  without  having 
settled  upon  any  definite  project.  But  fresh  inspiration  came  wit'.i 


TUB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  33 

the  morning's  opportunity,  and  the  young  avengers  looked  on  not 
uninterestedly,  as  sundry  delicacies  were  compounded  for  the  noon 
time  delectation  of  the  enemy,  who,  departing  early,  left  the  luncheon 
to  be  brought  by  tlie  boys.  It  was  past  the  opening  school  hour 
when  they  walked  demurely  in,  but  inquiry  eliciting  the  f  ict  that 
tiiey  were  detained  upon  account  of  the  delicacies  now  delivered  to 
her,  they  escaped  unpunished,  and  affairs  proceeded  much  as  usual, 
*avc  that  Lisle  did  not  once  fall  into  disgrace,  and  seemed  unusually 
attentive  to  his  books. 

The  noon  intermission  came  at  last,  nnd  allowing  the  other  boys 
to  pass  out  before  them,  Lisle  and  Eddy  lingered  in  the  entry  while 
the  enemy  took  one  by  one  the  articles  from  the  luncheon  basket, 
f-niiling  approvingly  at  the  goodly  array;  for  Mrs.  Sterling  prided 
herself  upon  her  culinary  skill,  and  gloried  in  an  opportunity  to  dis- 
play it.  The  fried  cakes  looked  sufficiently  tempting,  turning  one 
golden  side  up  at  her,  and  she  helped  herself  to  a  liberal  bite  of  one. 
An  expression  of  infinite  disgust  convulsed  her  face,  as  the  offending, 
treacherous  morsel  was  ejected.  They  certainly  were  flavored  with 
snuff!  Yes;  she  sneezed  and  strangled  again  and  again  ere  the  sus- 
picion had  fairly  fixed  itself  upon  her  mind.  Eddy  smothered  a 
laugh  with  his  handkerchief;  for  his  had  been  the  generous  hand 
that  lent  such  piquancy,  while  Lisle,  nearly  upsetting  a  pan  of  milk 
in  the  pantry,  had  called  for  maternal  aid  which  he  considered 
cheaply  purchased  at  the  price  of  a  boxed  ear.  "With  a  warning 
llhu&h,"  Lisle  checked  the  threatened  explosion,  as  tlie  teacher  cut 
in  half  a  small  pie  serenely  awaiting  her  attentions.  It  proved  a 
heathenish  compound  of  apple,  salt,  and  sulphur,  and  when  she  had 
sufficiently  conquered  her  disgust,  she  closely  examined  it.  Yes,  as 
she  suspected,  the  upper  crust  had  been  separated  from  the  lower 
one,  and  carefully  replaced,  since  it  left  the  oven,  and  a  grim  smile 
wreathed  her  lips  as  she  thus  detected  the  way-side  iniquity. 

Lisle  saw  it,  and  knew  the  probable  penalty,  but  he  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  her  compelled  to  endure  a  dinnerless  day  in  return 
for  his  supperlcss  night. 

"There,  Eddy,"  said  he  as  they  stole  out  together,  "I  did  all  that, 
you  know,  f-o  ma  can't  whip  you  for  it  (the  one  who  thinks  how  to 
do  naughty  things,  is  the  bad  one),  and  now  all  the  sulphur  is  gone, 
so  we  shan't  have  any  to  take  to-morrow  morning.  I  only  wish  we 
rould  have  crammed  in  all  the  pichra  and  columbo,  too  1  TJiat  would 
have  fetched  her  !" 

The  brief  feeling  of  triumph  he  experienced  despite  the  impend- 


34  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  TOPLABS. 

ing  and  inevitable  penalty  due,  was  checked  by  an  unpleasant,  if 
common  incident;  for  as  they  passed  down  the  steps,  Bill  Brown, 
the  bully  of  the  school,  stepped  slily  behind  him,  struck  him  a  blow 
behind  liis  ear,  as  severe  as  unexpected.  Stunned  for  an  instant,  he 
leaned  against  the  door-post  while  the  young  pugulist  made  off  at 
the  top  of  his  speed,  for,  like  all  tyrants,  he  was  a  coward.  He  was 
the  largest  boy  in  the  school,  and  it  was  useless  to  attempt  wreaking 
a  summary  vengeance  upon  him.  Eddy  seized  a  stone  which  ho 
was  whirling  round  and  round  to  gather  impetus,  when  Lisle  looked 
up. 

"  Put  it  down,  Eddy.  HeVl  come  back  and  whale  us  both,  now, 
but  I'll  do  him  the  first  time  he  an't  looking  for  it." 

The  opportunity  came  sooner  than  he  could  have  hoped. 

"  Come  here,  Li  Sterling,"  shouted  one  of  the  boys  in  a  knot  among 
whom  Bill  had  run  for  protection,  "  make  us  a  board  house  like  the 
one  you  had  the  other  day,  and  I'll  give  you  something.  Will  you  ? ' 

"Yes,  I'll  make  you  the  house,  but  you  needn't  give  me  anything. 
I'm  willing  to  do  anything  if  I'm  asked,  but  I  don't  like  to  be  told," 
and  throwing  off  his  coat,  he  went  cheerfully  to  work,  and  soon  fin- 
ished a  sort  of  commodious  pen  for  a  small  family,  dignified  by  the 
name  of  house. 

"Here,  Bill  Brown,  you  get  in  first,"  said  the  contractor  who  had 
called  Lisle,  "you  are  taller  than  any  of  us,  so  if  you  can  stand  up  in 
it,  we" can." 

"  Oh,  Bill  is  going  to  live  in  it  too,  h  he  ?  Then  it  wants  a  higher 
roof,"  suggested  Lis'.c. 

"Of  course,  booby;  and  if  you  don't  stand  around  lively,  I'll  give 
you  another  knock  to  keep  that  one  company,"  replied  Bill  clenching 
his  fist  suggestive;}'. 

Lisle  obligingly  and  meekly  rearranged  the  board  forming  fhe 
roof,  and  looked  again  at  the  foundation  of  the  structure,  with  which 
at  la&t  satisfied,  he  raised  the  entrance  and  bade  Bill  enter.  With 
an  air  of  supercilious  triumph  at  being  the  commander  of  such  ser- 
vices, Bill  entered  the  trap,  when  down  it  came  around  him,  burying 
him  among  the  ruin?,  from  which  uncomfortable  situation  he  bel- 
lowed most  lustily,  while  Lisle,  in  turn,  placed  a  safe  distance  be- 
tween himself  and  the  enemy.  This  was  but  one  instance  among 
many  of  the  daily  bullyings  visited  upon  and  revenged  by  Lisle, 
whose  lack  of  physical  strength,  was  takon  advantage  of  by  the  boys, 
who,  as  a  class,  dislike  a  sickly  companion,  and  though  he  seldom 


TliE   HOUSE   LEI1IKD   THE   rOPLAUS.  85 

failed  to  reap  his  revenge,  it  was  done  by  some  strategy  which  cov' 
crcd  it  from  recognition  by  others,  however  satisfactory  to  himself. 

Compelled  to  perform  many  tasks  distasteful  to  him,  it  was  uselc  a 
to  refuse,  but  Ids  services  seldom  bestowed  much  felicity  where  he 
dlt  not  chor.se  fh'it  they  should  do  so.  His  teachers  were  quick  to 
recognize  this  avenging  tal-?nt,  and,  wholly  unheeding  the  aggrava- 
tions which  stung  him  thus  to  wreak  out  justice  upon  his  persecu- 
tors, they  considered  and  treated  him  as  a  bad,  designing,  treacherous 
boy.  Thus  with  a  rankling  sensa  of  injustice  gna\xing  ever  in  his 
heart,  he  dragged  on  his  miserable  school  days,  feeling  that  every 
one's  hand  was  against  him. 

From  the  little  girls  in  the  school  he  received  sympathy,  and  with 
them  might  have  had  companionship,  but  the  natural  pride  and  ar- 
rogance of  boyhood  made  him  shrink  from  joining  a  congregation 
of  girls,  and  his  shabby  clothes  made  him.  ashamed  to  do  so,  quick 
as  they  were,  by  instinct,  to  observe  and  remark  upon  thorn. 

"  I'd  like  you  better  than  any  other  boy  in  school,  if  you  wore  good 
clothes,"  said  a  little  g'rl  to  him  one  day.  ''  Why  don't  you  have 
nice  n  -w  clothes,  like  that  hateful  Bill  ?  You're  a  great  deal  the 
nicest  boy,  and  your  pa  is  ever  so  much  richer  than  his." 

"  "I  don't  want  to  be  a  dandy  "  sneered  Lisle,  flushing,  nevertheless, 
with  shame,  and  trying  to  conceil  a  patched  elbow  as  he  spokL1. 

"  Oh,  then  you  aren't  so  nice  as  I  thought  you  were !  You  ought 
to  want  to  be  real  nice  !  I  wouldn't  go  patched  nor  ragged  for  any- 
thing. Just  see  your  brother  Eddy,  now  don't  he  look  like  a  little 
beggar  boy?  And  you  look  worse  than  he  does,  because  you're 
longer  and  bigger  than  your  clothes,  bad  as  they  are  !" 

.In  dignified  silence  he  turned  and  walked  away,  but  once  out  of 
Bight,  lie  threw  himself  upon  the  grass  and  tore  it  up  by  savage 
handfuls,  as  tears  of  rage  and  bitterness  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  lu 
all  the  world  there  was  not  one  bright  spot  for  him  to  turn  to,  and 
the  very  heavens  seemed  to  frown  upon,  or  mock  him. 

He  heard  the  teacher  loudly  rapping  on  the  window  with  tho 
back  of  a  book,  to  summon  the  scholars  to  their  seats  arid  afternoon 
exercises,  but  he  did  not  obey. 

Time  passed  till  his  class  was  calLd,  and  the  noisy  summons  was 
repeat ed,for  him,  as  he  well  knew.  An  interval  passed,  then  Eddy's 
voice  called  him,  at  first  impatiently,  then  in  alann;  and  dashing 
away  his  tears,  he  answered  and  came  forward. 

"Oh,  Li,  but  an't  the  schoolma'am  mad  as  hops!  and  she's  cut- 
ting notches  with  Irer  penknife  in  the  butt  end  of  a  big  switch  that 


3G  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

won't  leave  an  inch  of  hido  on  you !     Oh  my,  but  you'll  catch  it 
now !" 

"  No  I  shan't.  I  won't  catch  it  any  longer !  I  may  ns  well  die  now 
i.s  any  time,  and  I'm  going  home.  Go  back  and  tell  the  schoolma'aui 
I'm  gone  home  ;  that's  a  good  boy." 

"  But,  Li,  ma's  worser  than  the  schoolma'am  is." 

"  I  shan't  go  to  her,  I'm  going  straight  to  pa.  Never  you  mind 
about  me,  Eddy.  Go  back  and  say  your  lessons." 

He  watched  him  back  to  the  door,  and  then  turned  his  own  steps 
homeward. 

Mr.  Sterling  was  standing  in  the  door  of  the  mill  when  Lisle 
reached  it,  and  surprised  to  see  him  at  such  an  hour,  asked, 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Lisle ?     "Why  an't  you  in  school  ?'' 

"Because  I  an't  fit  to  be  there,  and  I  won't  go  any  more  1  Kill 
me  if  you  want  to ;  I  don't  care.  I  can't  stand  it  and  I  wont,  so 
there !"  find  his  usually  pale  face  deepened  into  a  more  glowing 
crimson. 

"What  language  is  this  to  use  to  your  father,  Lisle?" 

"What  kind  of  a  father  is  it  to  let  his  children  go  looking  like 
little  beggars  ?  There  an't  a  boy  in  the  school  but  what  hates  me, 
and  even  a  little  bit  of  a  girl  not  that,  high,  told  me  to-day  that  she 
wouldn't  go  patched  nor  ragged  for  anything-!  The  teacher  whips 
me  because  I'm  '  a  mean  little  chimney  sweeper,'  and  calls  rne  '  vag- 
abond,' and  '  rag-a-muffin,'  and  everything  else  mean  and  dirty.  1 11 
go  driver  on  the  canal  before  Til  stand  it  any  longer  !" 

"Do  you  know  what  kind  of  boys  drive  horses  on  the  canal?" 

"Yes;  bad,  mean,  wicked  boys,  that  swear,  and  drink  whiskey, 
nnd  play  seven  up  for  money.  But  I  don't  care,  I'd  better  have  a 
good  time  like  them,  and  maybe  go  to  hell  afterwards,  than  be  mis- 
erabler  than  them  all  the  time  and  may  be  go  there  all  the  same.  I'm 
going  to  try  if",  any  way." 

Mr.  Sterling  was  shocked  beyond  measure.  That  a  son  of  his 
should  not  only  sloop  to  be  a  canal  driver,  but  thus  coolly  reason 
upon  and  accept  the  penalty,  was  enough  to  make  him  doubt  his 
own  exist* nee! 

He  looked  at  him  in  speechless  horror.  The  steadfast,  defiant 
glance  which  met  his  own,  taught  him  at  once  that  no  moral  lecture 
or  parental  sternness  would  conquer  the  resolution,  and  taking  him 
silently  by  the  hand,  he  led  him  into  the  mill,  away  from  any  chance 
of  interruption,  and  there  lifting  him  upon  l.i-;  knee,  said  very  seri- 
ously, but  gently, 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLARS.  "  37 

"  Now  my  son,  tell  me  what  hns  put  all  these  ideas  into  your  head. 
Who  abuses  you  ?  Tell  me  the  whole  story,  and  then  we'll  see  wlrxt 
can  be  done." 

"  Every  body  abuses  me  !  Ma  hates  me  because  T  was  born,  and 
says  if  you  knew  as  much  ab  <ut  me  as  she  docs,  you'd  choke  me.  I 
an't  a  bit  like  other  boys  at  home,  and  she  never  treats  me  even  de- 
cently when  you're  out  of  sight.  Give  me  your  finger  a  minute. 
There;  don't  you  feel  that  dent  in  my  head?  That's  where  I  fell 
out  of  a  high  chair  and  cut  my  head  against  the  table,  once,  when  it 
turned  so  dark  and  dizzy  I  couldn't  ?tay  up  any  longer,  and  I  hadn't 
had  a  thing  to  eat  all  day  long,  and  was  sick  to  begin  with.  That 
was  last  year  when  you  were  gone  off  to  the  turnpike  meeting ;  and 
I  had  to  wear  a  patch  on  it  ever  so  long,  where  Dr.  Kelley  sewed  it 
up ;  and  he  scolded  ina  for  it,  too,  you'd  better  believe  !" 

"  But,  my  son,  why  didn't  you  tell  me  of  it  ?  This  is  the  first  word 
I  ever,  heard  about  it." 

"  A  pretty  time  I'd  have  had  in  telling  you  1  Ma  said  if  I  did  it 
phe'd  '  lick  me  out  of  my  skin  ;'  and  she  would,  too  !  She  told  Dr. 
Kelley  I  hurt  myself  running  in  the  yard  ;  but  he  knew  it  was  a  big 
lie.'' 

"  Hush,  Lisle ;  you  mustn't  speak  so  about  your  mother.  She 
wasn't  to  blame  for  your  falling  out  of  your  chair." 

"  Wasn't  she,  when  she  tied  me  up  in  it  all  day  and  starved  me 
into  the  bargain  ?  Do  you  think  I  wanted  to  st  ty  in  it  so  long  ?" 

"Well,  this  was  a  long  time  ago.     What's  the  matter  now  ?" 

With  a  portentous  nodding  of  his  head,  Lisle  pushed  up  his  coat 
?loeve,  and  baring  his  arm  before  the  old  gentleman's  eyes,  asked 
bitterly, 

"  Do  you  see  these  little  scars — five,  six  of  'em  ?  That's  where  the 
Echoolma'am  we  had  before  this  one,  let  Tom  Crawford  bite  me,  be- 
cause I  bit  his  fingers  when  he  tried  to  rub  out  all  the  sums  I  had 
done  on  my  slate  ready  to  show.  I  didn't  bite  him  hard,  like  this, 
but  just  some  ;  and  when  he  made  a  fuss  over  it,  old  schooley  called 
us  both  up,  and  when  she  got  my  hands  tied  tTght  behind  me,  just 
let  him  bite  my  arm  as  hard  as  ever  he  could  :  and  ma  said  '  good? 
when  I  told  her  of  it.  But  I  paid  Tom  off  for  it  next  day,  nnd  let 
him  have  with  a  sharp  stone  that  gave  him  one  big  scar  for  all  these 
little  ones.  His  would  swallow  all  these  and  never  wink  at  'cm! 
When  I  get  big  enough  to  lick  him,  I'm  going  to  tell  him  it  was  me 
give  him  that  (he  don't  know  it  yet),  and  then  he'll  know  what  it 
was  for.  If  he  don't  I'll  show  him  !" 


38  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

"Why,-  Lisle,  I'm  astonished  !     I  thought  you  a  good  boy." 

"  Well,  then-you  thought  wron-?  !  I'm  just  as  bad  as  I  can  be ;  bu': 
I  liave  to  be  bad,  or  I  couldn't  live  at  all.  You  don't  know  how  bad 
everybody  is  ;  and  when  I  come  home  sometimes  and  show  ma  hovr 
I'm  all  purple,  she  says  I'm  served  just  right,  and  ten  to  one  whips 
me  herself." 

Mr.  Sterling  put  the  boy  suddenly  from  his  knee,  and  walked  ag- 
itatedly once  or  twioc  across  the  mill,  then  came  back  and  looked 
down  upon  him  where  he  had  seated  him-elf  upon  a  meal  sack  with 
his  ragged  hat  pressed  low  down  over  his  scowling  brows,  while  his 
breast  labored  fearfully  with  the  great  gasps  which  seemed  all  the 
more  startling  for  his  efforts  to  suppress  them.  He  laid  his  hand  on 
the  boy's  head,  ns  he  asked  in  a  troubled  voice, 

"What's  the  reason  for  all  this,  Lisle?  What  makes  them  abuse 
you  IM  school?" 

"  Because  I  look  like  a  little  beggar,"  he  burst  out  indignantly, 
tearing  off  his  battered  hat  and  hurling  it  across  the  mill.  ''Look 
at  that  old  thing  with  the  brim  all  torn  off  on  one  side,  and  a  hole 
in  the  top ;  and  look  at  this  old  brown  coat,  ragged  on  one  elbow 
and  patched  with  black  on  the  other  .one ;  and  these  breeches  so 
tight  and  little  they  can't  come  down  to  but  jnst  below  my  kner\ 
and  all  tagged  out  at  that. !"  and  seizing  the  covering  of  the  leg  held 
up  to  view,  he  rent  the  worn  out  fabric  its  whole  length,  and  smiled 
bitterly  upon  the  delicate  little  limb  thus  exposed;  then  suddenly 
raising  his  bare  feet,  said  savagely,  "  Look  at  those,  too.  Don't  you 
see  how  they  are  all  chapped  till  the  blood  leaks  out,  because  they 
need  shoes  to  cover  'em  this  cold  weather  ?  Soe  that  big  toe.  It 
would  have  cracked  clear  off  by  this  time  if  I  hadn't  tied  that  bit  of 
woolen  yarn  around  it.  I'm  a  pretty  boy  to  expect  to  be  treated 
decent,  an't  IV  All  the  boys  call  me  'stingy  Sterling's  hopeful.' 
I'll  tell  'em,  sometime,  I  an't  and  never  was." 

''No,  my  son,  never  deny  your  parents.  That's  like  Peter  who 
denied  his  Lord,  and  there's  teaching  against  it — special  teaching  ! 
I'll  get  you  some  new  clothes  right  away,  and  you  shall  look  as  well 
as  any  of  the  boys.  I've  had  the  cloth  a  good  while,  but  some  way 
your  mother  don't  seem  to  put  her  hand  to  it,  often  as  I've  spoke 
about  it.  Go  and  buy  yourself  a  pair  of  shoes,  now,  if  you  want  to, 
and  don't  let  me  hear  anything  more  about  canal  driving.  I  sup- 
pose Edward  wants  fixing  up,  too,  don't  he  ?" 

"Ye?,  some  ;  but  Ed  an't  so  miserable  as  I  am,  because  ma  never 
whips  and  starves  him,  nor  shuts  him  up  in  the  dark ;  and  the  boys 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  39 

don't  pitch  into  him  ;  'cause  he's  stout  if  he  is  little,  and  he's  a  real 
lighter.  But  he's  ragged,  and  patched,  and  barefooted,  like  me. 
But  seu  here,.no\v  ;  I  won't  be  bought  all  off  with  even  good  clothes, 
for  I  hate  that  school,  and  I  won't  go  to  it  any  more.  I  an't  going 
to  be  abused  all  the  time  because  the  schoolma'ain  is  an  old  maid  ; 
she's  whipped  me  for  flie  last  time,  and  I  don't  care  who  knows  it!" 

"  Yes,  my  son,  she  has;  I'll  see  to  all  that.  You  ought  to  have 
told  me  these  things  long  ago." 

"  I  tell  you  I  was  afraid  to !  I'll  be  killed  for  it  now,  mny  be ;  but 
&  boy  can't  die  more  than  once  ;  so  come  on,"  and  taking  up  his  h-.t, 
lie  contemplated  it  contemptuously  for  a  moment,  then  shook  the 
meal  from  it,  and  tucking  it  under  his  arm  with  a  resolute  thrust, 
walked  into  the  house  and  to  his  room,  put  on  his  Sunday  suit,  and 
made  ready  for  town.  The  wagon  was  at  the  door  when  lie  came 
out,  and  in  it  sat  Mr.  Sterling,  awaiting  him,  while  Mrs.  Sterling 
stood  near,  nodding  her  head,  and  twitching  her  mouth  from  side 
to  side- as  she  had  the  peculiarity  of  doing  when  especially  displease  1 
under  circumstances  when  she  saw  remonstrance  would  be  useless. 
She  darted  a  glance  upon  Li-le  as  he  passed  her,  that  was  wont  to 
terrify  him  in  his  bravest  moments ;  but  it  fell  powerless  and  un- 
heeded now,  and  as  he  climbed  up  to  his  seat  beside  the  old  gentle- 
man, his*  heart  swelled  with  the  first  throb  of  real  exultation  it  had 
ever  known.  He  had  courted  a  conflict  with  paternal  authority, 
and  conquered.  No  penalty,  scarcely  reproof  had  followed  his  re- 
bellion and  defiance  ;  and  strong  in  the  thus  acknowledged  virtue; 
of  his  cause,  he  felt  himself  a  man. 

Preoccupied  in  mind,  and  silent,  Mr.  Sterling  drove  into  town,  and 
as  he  fastened  his  horses  at  the  hitching  post  in  front  of  the  "cheap 
store,"  said, 

"  You  may  run  round  to  the  shoe  store  and  let  them  fit  you,  and 
I'll  drive  around  there  for  you  When  I'm  ready  to  go  home.  Tell 
Fairfield  to  give  you  a  good  strong  pair,  and  mind  you  get  them  big 
enough  ;  because  you'll  grow  into  'em  next  year  if  they  are  a  trifle 
too  large  now." 

Climbing  down  over  the  wheel,  Lisle  waited  for  no  farther  bidding, 
and  a  short  run  brought  him  to  tife  shoe  shop. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Fnirfield.  I  want  a  good  sf  out  pair  of  boots, 
if  you  please,  sir.  Nice,  long-legged,  real  men's  boots,  with  lots  of 
squeak  in  'cm — you  know,  don't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  my  lad;  here  are  ju?t  the  ones  you  want.  You  can  black 
thorn  till  they'd  show  you  your  own  face,  if  you  don't  grease  them 


40  THE   HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

first,  /don't  believe  in  greasing  boots  to  keep  out  the  water— its  » 
humbug — and  they  never  look  so  nice  after  it.  There,  how's  that? 
Rather  1-irge,  h 

They  were  on  by  this  time,  and  he  rose  and  walked  a  step  or  two 
in  them.  They  were  rather  large,  but  this  was  a  matt  r  of  minor 
importance,  possession  being  the  first ;  so  he  declined  trying  another 
p-.dr,  and  t-.  King  Mr.  Pah-field  that  his  father  would  be  in  directly 
to  pay  for  them  and  get  a  pair  for  Eddy,  bade  him  a  hasty  good 
evening,  and  went  out.  He  looked  up  a-.d  down  the  street ;  it  w.is 
in  a  lamentably  gooJ  condition — hard  and  dry.  with  not  a  puddle 
to  be  seen.  With  a  little  sinking  at  the  heart,  he  tuincd  a  corner. 
Victory!  there  was  what  he  sought.  In  the  gully  by  the  road-side 
lay  a  pool  of  water,  stirred  into  something  like  proper  consistency 
by  a  flock  of  gabbling  geese  and  a  fraternizing  pig  ;  and  shaping  his 
course  for  it,  he  put  them  ingloriously  to  flight,  and  walked  reso- 
lutely into  it,  then  perambulated  its  length,  breadth,  and  circum- 
ference, with  t!ie  pride  of  a  second  Columbus!  And  why  not?  Col- 
nmbus  had  merely  d:scovercd  a  new  continent — an  accident  that 
might  have  happened  to  any  one — and  it  was  not  made  his  own 
even  by  that  discovery;  but  he  had  thus  discovered  a  way  to  securo 
his  title  in  a  pur  of  real  boots — his  first,  long  coveted  ones!  The 
most  magnanimous  tradesman  that  ever  lived  would  not  take  them 
back  after  such  a  we  tting  as  they  had  now  received,  and  assured 
that  he  was  unalterably  their  propiietor,  he  went  back  to  the  wasron 
still  standing  by  the  ''cheap  store,'1  and  resuming  his  place  in  it, 
gathered  up  the  reins  in  readiness  for  a  start.  ?.Ir.  Sterling  soon 
came  out,  rind,  sensible  that  he  had  spent  some  time  in  a  but  half 
-successful  effort  to  "  beat  down"  an  obstinate  clerk,  niide  no  remark 
at  finding  Lisle  awaiting  him  there  in-tead  (  f  at  the  «hoe  ship. 
Driving  around  to  the  shop,  he  handed  Lisle  the  reins,  and  went  in. 
A  few  moments  ehipsecl,  ami  the  door  reopened. 

"  Lisle,  come  in  here."  cal'.e  1  Mr.  Sterling. 

With  a  fice  serenely  unreflecting  anything  of  the  triumph  below 
it.  L:sle  obeyed. 

li  Take  off  the -e  boots,  Lisle.     Lcin't  afford  to  buy  boots  for  you. 
Shoes  will  answer  just  as  well,  and  don't  cost  half  so  much.'' 

Without  a  word  he  drew  off  one,  which  he  felt  would  be  sufficient 
in  the  emergency,  and  handed  it  up  to  Mr.  Fair-field,  wlio  shook  his 

;-  Couldn't  do  it,  Mr.  Sterling.     The  boots  are  unsaleable.     Look 

in." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  41 

I    Mr.  Sterling  looked  at  the  soiled  boot  Landed  over  the  counter. 

"  How's  this,  Lisle  ?  Where  did  you  get  into  the  water  ?  It  mu-t 
have  been  pure  carelessness.  Besides,  didn't  I  tell  you  to  wait 
here  ?'' 

"  So  you  did,  didn't  you  ?  Well,  Mr.  Fail-field,  couldn't  you  tnke 
'em  back  if  pa  paid  you  damages?" 

"  Not  unless  he  paid  full  price.  You  can  see  they  are  unsaleable,'' 
and  lie  returned  the  rejected  article  whose  passably  wounded  pride 
Lisle  soothed  with  an  affectionate  caress  as  he  put  it  on  again,  and 
then  contemplated  the  pair  with  renewed  pride  and  admiration. 
Mr.  Sterling  paid  for  them,  selected  some  shoes  for  Eddy,  and  went 
out  in  silence;  but  as  they  drove  homeward  he  said  offendedly, 

'•I'll  see  to  your  going  on  in  this  way,  Lisle.  I  won't  send  you 
for  anything  again,  since  you  can't  be  trusted." 

A  hot  flush  shot  up  to  his  eyes,  but  he  steadied  his  vtoice  and  snid 
defiantly, 

"I've  been  barefooted  long  enough  to  have  a  pair  of  boots  now; 
it  an't  a  bit  more  than  even  !"  and  encouraged  by  the  silence  follow- 
ing his  reply,  he  soon  after  suggested, 

"  I  must  have  a  good  hat,  now,  musn't  I  ?  That  old  torn  out  straw 
one  don't  go  very  well  with  real  boots." 

Mr.  Sterling  made  no  reply,  and  this  time  considering  silence  not 
encouraging,  he  kept  farther  suggestions  for  his  own  edification.  It 
was  quite  dark  when  they  reached  horn?,  and  Eddy  was  waiting  on 
the  door-step,  impatient  to  learn  what  the  day's  rebellion  had  ac- 
complished. The  unmistakable  creak  of  boot-laaiher  saluted  his  ear 
as  Lisle  came  in,  and  bringing  the  candle,  he  bent  down  and  ex- 
amined them,  pinching  up  the  leather  on  the  instep  with  the  air  of 
a  connoisseur. 

"  I  say,  Lisle,  they're  the  thing  now  !     Have  I  got  some,  too  ?" 

A  thrill  of  compassion  made  Lisle  prevaricate,  and  he  answered, 

uPa  has  a  whole  lot  of  things,  I  don't  know  what  all!  He  come 
down  sharp  on  the  '  cheap  store,'  nnd  went  to  the  shoe  shop  last. 
He'll  be  here  in  a  minute.  Wasn't  the  schoolma'am  mad,  Eddy  ?" 

"By  jingo,  you'd  better  believe!  She  tanned  the  hide  of  most 
every  boy  in  school,  to  make  up  for  you.  Ker-whew,  didn't  she  ! " 

Mr.  Sterling  came  in  and  deposited  various  packages,  large  and 
small,  upon  the  settee. 

"AVhore  are  my  boots,  pa?''  demanded  Eddy,  seating  himself  and 
squaring  one  foot  across  the  opposite  knee  preparatory  to  putting 
them  on.  Mr.  Sterling  tossed  him  a  package,  but  was  suddenly 


42  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  TOPLAI13. 

electrified  by  receiving  it  broad-side  upon  his  venerable  person,  while 
Eddy  sent  up  an  indignant  howl. 

"  Oh-ic-ie!  They're  nothing  but  nasty  shoe?  tied  on  a  string!  I 
won't  wear  nasty  old  shoes  like  a  baby  1  I'm  going  to  have  real  true 
boots,  like  Lisle's." 

Mr.  Sterling  wiped  his  coat  sleeve  in  silent  horror  at  the  sacrilegi- 
ous offering,  and  Mrs.  Sterling  said, 

'•  Oh,  Li>le  is  his  father's  boy,  you  know  !  That  makes  a  differ- 
ence. Take  what  you  can  get,  and  be  thankful." 

"I  wish,  wife,"  said  Mr.  Sterling,  "  you'd  teach  that  boy  some  re- 
spect for  his  father.  lie  threw  his  new  shoes  at  me." 

"  I'll  warrant  it !  Just  the  Fitzjames  spirit !  You  won't  be  able  to 
snub  1dm  very  long,  Mr.  Sterling.  Why  hasn't  he  boots,  like  Lisle's, 
the  re  r" 

"  Because  Li*le  tricked  me  out  of  what  I  didn't  mean  to  give  him. 
lie  played  me  a  trick  I  shan't  forget  of  him." 

"  How  did  you  do  it,  Lisle  ?"  asked  Eddy  in  sudden  interest,  as  if 
a  new  idea  had  occurred  to  him ;  but  before  the  reply  was  given,  if 
indeed  any  would  have  been  ventured,  there,  Mrs.  Sterling  said  sar- 
castically, 

"  What,  your  model  son  deceive  his  father  ?    Impossible !" 

L:s'e  sat  regarding  his  ill-gotten  treasures  with  a  look  that  plainly 
asked  their  opinion  as  to  whether  he  had  not  paid  too  dearly  for 
them.  Supper  soon  ended  the  scene,  and  Eddy  was  appeased  by 
his  father's  promise  to  exchange  the  despised  shoes  for  the  coveted 
boots.  So  quist  descended  upon  the  troubled  dny. 

Thoroughly  resolved  upon  a  complete  revolution  in  affairs,  Mr. 
Sterling  the  next  day  had  a  long  interview  with  the  bchoolinistress, 
which,  as  he  was  one  of  the  directors,  had  the  desired  effect ;  and  it 
wns  arranged|that  henceforth  any  misconduct  upon  the  part  of  liis 
children  was  to  be  reported  to  him,  and  upon  no  account  punished  by 
herself.  The  teacher  shut  up  her  pen-knife  with  a  littlo  dick,  as  Mr. 
Sterling  left  her,  and  her  lips  closed  uncompromisingly.  But  the 
flesh  of  a  teacher  is  weak,  and  the  power  of  a  director  is  strong. 

For  ;i  few  days  the  Sterling  boys  were  absent  from  school ;  but 
they  reappeared,  newly  clothed,  and  looking  comparatively  cleg  mf, 
despite  the  fact  that  the  "  Cadet  grey"  was  not  a  most  desirable  lir., 
Mrs.  Sterling's  labors  proving  more  persevering  thnu  successful,  nor 
were  the  pride  and  glory  pertaining  to  Iheir  proprietorship  sensibly 
abated  even  by  the  derisive  shouts,  "  Stingy  Sterling  has  been  ty  a 
fire !  Lord,  what  a  haul  I" 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS.  43 


CHAPTER  V. 

COULD  irritating  boys  have  been  brought  to  terms  as  ca^iiy  as 
frightened  parents  and  unresisting,  if  unwilling,  teachers,  Lisk's 
school-day  troubles  would  have  been  ended.  The  mistress  of  the 
rod  and  ferule,  now  dethroned  as  far  as  he  was  conceaned,  kept  ob- 
stinate silence  when  reports  to  headquarters  were  honestly  due,  de- 
termined that  if  Mr.  Sterling  wished  his  boys  to  go  straight  to  the 
Great  Unmentionable,  they  should  encounter  no  obstacle  in  her; 
and  thus  assured  that  no  penalty  would  follow  any  satisfactory  drab- 
bling he  might  deem  it  judicious  to  administer  to  his  enemies,  a  fair 
allowance  of  physical  strength  would  doubtlessly  have  made  him 
famous,  but  proper  caution  in  regard  to  avenging  justice  kept  half 
his  prowess  concealed,  or  only  guessed  at,  and  he  was  never  known 
as  the  attacking  party.  Only  in  self-defence 'was  he  ever  seen  to 
raise  his  hand,  and  theu.if  lack  of  strength  were  atoned  for  in  stategic 
ability,  it  was  excusable,  and  few  wero  the  evil-doers  who  escaped 
him,  though  he  was  compelled  to  master  his  impatience  and  wait 
for  opportunity,  when  the  first  salient  point  in  the  enemy's  defence 
was  attacked  to  the  lasting  remembrance  of  the  discomfited.  What 
an  undisguised  blow  with  his  own  fist  failed  to  perform,  was  accom- 
plished by  a  stone  tied  in  the  corner  of  his  handkerchief;  nnd  the 
boys  fell  back  astonished  that  so  feeble  a  child  could  deal  such  blows, 
while  skillful  concealment  of  his  weapon  prevented  the  patent  from 
being  infringed  upon.  There  was  glory  in  being  feared,  if  he  had 
not  the  pleasure  of  being  loved,  and,  after  all,  as  fear  is  the  move 
enduring  sentiment,  it  was  well  that  he  went  on  his  conqrteiing  way 
rejoicing. 

Only  under  Dr.  Kellcy's  roof  did  this  feeling  of  isolation  and  l<i(- 
terncss  cease  to  oppress  him.  Here,  the  same  kind  smiles  f  >rev. T 
beamed  upon  him — here  alone  was  he  made  to  think  himself  any- 
thing but  an  interloper  nmongthe  herd  of  mankind.  The  one  bright 
spot  to  which  he  looked  forward,  was  the  Saturday  holiday  closing 
the  weary  week,  when  he  and  Eddy  went  early  to  the  doctor's  house, 
nnd  were  carried  home  at  night  in  the  doctor's  own  carriage. 


41  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

Little  Julie,  having  long  outgrown  her  sobriquet  of  "  Dummy," 
was  an  object  of  unceasing  interest  and  amusement  to  them,  and  each 
in  his  peculiar  way  made  her  his  companion.  Eddy  was  never  weary 
of  arousing  her  indignation,  and  submitted  to  be  pummelled,  or 
roundly  lectured  by  her,  according  to  the  enormity  of  his  offence. 

A  putty-headed  doll  of  evil  countenance  and  cotton  and  bran 
corporosity,  was  the  principal  object  of  their  contention,  and  the 
victim  whose  sufferings  compelled  her  to  submit  to  any  imposed 
terms  of  peace.  This  infant  member  of  the  fraternity  was  called 
"  Old  Kate,"  and  many  were  the  executions  she  diurually  suffered 
by  hanging  from  the  door-post  by  her  neck,  after  which  she  would 
have  been  drawn  and  quartered  had  not  the  strength  of  her  consti- 
tution resisted  his  inhuman  exertions  to  that  effect,  through  which 
little  Julie  screamed  till  she  was  purple  from  her  chin  to  her  eyes. 
Agonized  pleadings  of  "  take  her  down,  oh,  do  take  her  down,"  often 
called  Lisle's  attention  to  the  crucifixion  of  "  Old  Kate,"  whose  vivid 
color  and  serene  countenance  under  her  sufferings,  were  remarkable. 
Toward  Julie,  Lisle  was  always  tenderly  protecting,  and  he  never 
failed  to  hasten  to  her  relief  and  reprove  Eddy  for  his  cruelty. 

Julie  herself  was  not  unfrequently  false  to  the  instinct  of  maternal 
tenderness — if  any  such  instinct  there  be — though,  in  justice,  it  mu«t 
be  conceded  that  when  so,  it  was  from  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty,  how- 
ever performed  with  the  cheerful  alacrity  for  which  many  mothers 
in  real  life — who  are  older  if  not  wiser — are  remarkable. 

Knowing  that  half-way  measures  spoil  children,  and  undermine 
family  government,  the  young  maternal  martyr  to  duty  seized  "  Old 
Kate"  by  the  morocco  covered  extremities,  and  beat  her  putty  head 
upon  the  wall  till  divers  indentations  attested  the  force  of  her  blows, 
and  in  one  instance,  after  an  unusual  misdemeanor,  a  broken  skull 
was  the  consequence,  which,  after  the  customary  prayer  following 
the  chastisement — endured  by  "  Old  KateJ'  as  by  many  a  juvenile, 
with  a  sense  that  the  worst  was  over,  and  this  only  a  sort  of  "  sum- 
ming up" — she  was  carried  to  the  doctor  to  be  dressed  and  plastere  I 
in  the  most  approved  surgical  manner,  after  which  she  soothed  and 
rocked  her  to  sleep,  with  the  comforting  assertion  that  "  mamma 
didn't  punish  her  because  she  liked  to,  but  to  make  her  good;'7  a 
declaration  which  called  out  a  shout  of  derision  from  the  skeptical 
Eddy,  for  which  he  was  seriously  reproved  by  her. 

An  untimely  end  befell  poor  "  Old  Kate ;"  for  having  been  left  by 
the  road-side  "  for  the  pigs  to  eat  up,  for  her  naughtiness,"  they  act- 
ually cnmo  along  and  did  so,  much  to  the  horror  of  the  bereaved 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  45 

mother,  who  mourned  for  her  in  a  dark  wadded  hood  with  a  black 
neckerchief  drooping  over  it  for  a  veil,  till  a  new  doll,  of  waxen 
conijjlexion,  and  with  real,  curling  hair,  filled  the  void  in  her  heart, 
like  the  advent  of  a  beauty  among  a  family  of  real  children. 

All  this,  which  infinitely  amused  Eddy,  was  a  source  of  real  pain 
to  the  ever  reflective  Lisle,  real  life  in  miniature  as  it  seemed  ;  nor 
was  he  to  be  laughed  out  of  it,  for  which  serious  way  of  looking  at 
things  he  received  the  litle  of  "  deacon."  Little  Julie's  self-dcfenco 
was  plead  with  a  comical  mingling  of  earnestness  and  affectation,  as, 
uplifting  her  rosy  face  and  softly  stroking  his  serious  one,  she  rea- 
soned, 

"You  know,  dear  deacon,  that  you  can't  understand  a  mother's 
feelings  :  no  one  but  a  mother  can.  I  had  to  whip  Old  Kate  and  bo 
very  strict  with  her,  because  she  had  a  bad  temper ;  but  I  never  havo 
to  punish  little  Pet,  because  she  is  the  sweetest  little  thing  in  the 
world,  and  never  soils  her  pink  silk  dress — and — she's  so  pretty ; 
isn't  she  now,  Lisle?" 

"Yes,  that's  just  it.  And  you  abused  poor  Old  Kate  because  sho 
wasn't  pretty,  though  she  was  just  as  much  your  child  as  Pet  is, 
wasn't  she  ?" 

"Hush;  she's  gone  to  heaven,  now,  and  I  suppose  she  is  a  lovely 
angel,  with  that  black  patch  off  of  her  head.  I  shall  go  there  and 
see  her  some  day." 

"  I  say,  little  Ju,  if  she  sees  you  coming  there,  won't  she  cut  and 
run!1'  laughed  Eddy,  holding  up  his  hands  to  receive  the  blows  he 
expected  she  would  ruin  upon  him  ;  but  to  his  surprise  she  walked 
away  with  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  refused  to  be  comforted  short 
of  much  repentance  and  apology,  and  even  then  only  by  degrees. 
Praises  of  Pet  at  last  accomplished  what  protestations  had  failed  to 
achieve,  and  her  smiles  returned.  On  the  whole,  their  companion- 
ship was  a  very  happy  one;  and  time  went  by  only  marked  by  these 
Saturday  periods  in  the  weekly  pages. 

Thus  affairs  went  on  till  Lisle  attained  his  fifteenth  year,  when  a 
new  event  broke  the  monotony  of  existence  in  the  mw  mill-house 
now  standing  complete  on  the  hill  near  where  the  old  one  had  been. 
The  same  Lornbardy  poplars  towered  up  into  the  air,  but  looked  less 
hopeless  and  forlorn  now  that  the  tangled  weeds  and  grass  which 
had  choked  their  root-!,  had  given  place  to  smoothly  shaven  turf, 
fenced  in  from  the  street  by  a  substantial  white  railing,  and  the  old 
bars  were  succeeded  by  a  double  gate,  from  which  a  drive  led  up  to 
the  stables  in  the  side  yard. 


46  TIIE  HOUSE  BEHIND   TIIE   POPLARS. 

It  was  a  comfortable,  rather  pretentious  farm-house,  of  solid  arch- 
itecture, and,  awakened  to  something  of  her  old-time  ambition  by 
these  BUI  round  ings,  Mrs.  Sterling  displayed  a  luudable  pride  in 
making  continual  internal  improvements  as  she  could  command  tho 
means  of  paying  for  them.  Mr.  Sterling  glanced  silently  at  theso 
additions  to  the  household  furniture,  and  sometimes  adjourned  to 
the  bed-room  and  examined  his  pockets  suspiciously.  The  amounts 
thus  appropriated  were  insignificant  in  detail,  and  if  questioned 
about  them,  she  assumed  an  air  of  outraged  innocence,  and  then 
berated  his  carelessness  in  losing  so  much  money  which  he  had  far 
better  expend  upon  his  family.  Then  followed  an  enumeration  of 
the  many  sacrifices  she  daily  made  upon  the  altar  uf  economy,  of  the 
number  of  pounds  of  cheese  and  butter  she  had  contrived  to  sell 
from  the  rnilk  of  four  cows,  and  how  she  had  done  it,  till,  glad  of 
escape  upon  any  terms,  he  said  no  mure  of  the  still  unabated  suspic- 
ion, but  went  out  andlei't  her  to  finish  the  harangue  at  her  pleasure. 

The  mill  was  doing  a  good  business,  and  crops  had  been  good 
'despite  one  or  two  late  irosts ;  so  the  Sterlings  were  prospering,  not- 
withstanding the  melancholy  addition  of  three  girls  and  another  boy 
to  the  household  number.  Old  Mrs.  Sterling,  meantime,  had  sung 
her  last-" Poor  lady,"  and  departed  for  the  silent  land.  Her  high- 
backed  chair  still  occupied  its  accustomed  corner;  but  the  old  black 
cat  had  enthroned  herself  upon  the  faded  cushion,  and  the  thin,  grey- 
black  shawl  had  been,  by  the  powerful  agency  of  trade,  transformed 
into  an  indefinite  portion  of  a  glass  preserve  dish.  Mrs.  Sterling 
saw  that  she  had  been  blessed  in  many  ways,  and  felt  the  better  for 
it. 

Such  was  the  situation  of  affairs,  when  the  arrival  of  a  bachelor 
brother  of  Mrs.  Sterling's  added  a  new  interest  to  the  life  of  the 
family  and  its  neighbors. 

Mr.  Filzjames  resided  in  Kentucky,  in  which  state  he  had  "ac- 
cumulated a  fortune  in  the  mule  business,"  as  all  who  were  acquaint- 
ed with  Mrs.  Sterling  were  repeatedly  informed,  and  though  the  in- 
tiicacies  of ''  the  mule  business"  remained  a  sealed  mystery,  the  for- 
tune was  accepted  as  a  facr,  as  also  her  assertion  that  "her  children, 
being  his  next  of  kin,  would  some  day  come  into  it."  In  her  own 
mind  she  had  become  convinced  that  Eelward,  now  a  fine,  manly 
boy,  would  fall  heir  to  the  bulk  of  this  fortune,  and  she  spared  no 
pains  to  instruct  him  how  he  should  win  and  retain  his  uncle's  fa- 
vor; lessons  which  fell  uselessly  upon  his  ear,  for  he  was  as  much  a 
Fitzjames  as  ever,  and  would  neither  assume  to  be  what  he  was  not, 


THE  HOUSE  BEIIIXD   THE   POPLAE.S.  47 

nor  conceal  what  ho  really  was,  from  any  one,  or  for  any  purpose, 
and  when  unusually  irritated  by  her  teaching,  unceremoniously 
"  wished  the  old  cove  and  his  money  hi  Balluhac  !"  The  old  gentle- 
man one  day  chanced  to  overhear  this  irreverent  consignment  of 
himself  and  his  possessions,  and  suddenly  addressing  the  discomfit- 
ed hid,  exclaimed, 

"  You  do,  do  you  !  and  pray  may  I  ask  what  for !" 

"I've  no  objections  to  you,  sir;  I  prebume  you're  a  nice  old  chap 
enough  ;  but  it's  enough  to  make  a  boy  swear,  to  have  you  and  your 
money  thrown  in  his  face  every  minute  !" 

"  Be  ally,  sister  Lydia,  he  doesn't  do  credit  to  his  training.  Ho 
might  come  in  for  something  handsome  at  my  death  if  he  could  play 
hypocrite ;  eh  ?  Well,  there's  plenty  of  time  for  him  to  learn  it,  yet ! 
I'm  rugged  and  hearty,  and  likely  to  be,"  and  smiling  grimly,  the- 
old  gentleman  walked  away. 

Filled  with  shame  and  contrition,  Eddy  soon  followed  him.  Mr. 
Fitzjames  took  no  nolico  of  him  for  a  time,  but  at  length  turning 
quickly  upon  him,  he  said, 

"  An  '  old  cove '  am  I  ?     Wished  me— where  was  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  sir,  I'm  sorry  I  said  that.  No ;  you're  the  nicest  old  boy  I 
ever  saw,  and  it  wasn't  you  I  was  vexed  with.  If  it  wasn't  for  that 
everlasting  '  money,''  we'd  be  real  tip-top  friends." 

"So  we  are,  my  boy  !  Go  off  to  your  play,  and  dou't  be  sensitive 
over  trifles.  I  can't  see  that  it's  any  worse  to  be  an  '  old  cove '  than  an. 
'  old  chap,'  and  either  name  is  good  enough  when  a  gentleman  isn't 
over  particular,'  and  readjusting  his  spectacles  he  went  on  reading, 
serenely. 

"  I  thought  so,"  commented  Mrs.  Sterling,  nodding  her  head  sa- 
gaciously as  she  .retreated  from  the  door  crack  which  had  served  as 
her  observatory,  and  returned  triumphantly  to  her  pie  cru^t  rolling. 
"  Every  tiling  works  for  the  best." 

Mr.  Fitzjames'  visit  drew  nearly  to  a  close,  and  no  farther  mani- 
f;  station  of  partiality  for  the  young  embodiment  of  the  Fitzjames' 
virtues  and  spirits^  cheered  Mrs.  Sterling's  watching  eyes.  Nothing 
seemed  farther  fioin  his  thoughts  than  his  young  nephews  and  nieces, 
and  if  his  attention  was  ever  in  any  way  directed  toward  them,  he 
bestowed  it  briefly,  in  an  indifferent  manner,  which  might  liavo 
sprung  from  pure  carelessness,  or  been  only  the  exercise  of  a  bach- 
elor's privilege,  who,  owing  nothing  to  posterity,  declined  being  an- 
noyed by  it.  At  least  there  was  no  hope  for  any  of  them  if  not  for 
Edward,  and  Mrs.  Sterling  felt  a  dim  forboding  that  the  proceeds 


•1-3  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAK3. 

of  the  successful  "mule  business"  might  not  be  preserved  to  the 
i'.mily  after  all  these  expectant  years. 

The  thought  was  not  a  pleasant  one  ;  and  raising  her  eyes  from 
her  early  apple  drying  employment,  she  glanced  sharply  down  upon 
the  busy  mill,  and  the  pond  sleeping  so  lazily  below  the  house,  un- 
disturbed by  the  fnmily  chatter  of  a  congregation  of  ducks  who  were 
holding  a  session  meeting  with  much  ado. 

At  the  head  of  the  pond,  Lisle  and  Eddy  were  laboring  diligently 
upon  the  construction  of  a  raft,  their  pantaloons  rolled  compactly 
•»p  over  their  knees,  and  their  shirt  sleeves  similarly  elevated  above 
the  troubles  of  life,  in  the  fashion  so  dear  to  the  hearts  of  industri- 
ous juveniles.  Eddy,  as  the  more  vigorous  of  the  two,  dragged  to- 
gether the  planks  for  the  miniature  ark,  while  Lisle  officiated  as 
master  architect.  Mrs.  Sterling  looked  on  for  awhile,  and  her  lip 
curled  as  she  mentally  commented,  "That's  always  the  way  it  goes! 
Prince  Lisle  always  plays  the  tine  gentleman,  while  others  obey  his 
bidding.  I'll  put  an  end  to  his  domineering  for  this  time,"  and  go- 
ing to  the  cradle  in  which  slumbered  the  youngest  representative 
of  the  family,  she  roused  to  action  a  pah-  of  lungs  which  were  the 
terror  of  the  household.  The  unwelcome  summons  fell  upon  the 
little  boys'  ears  even  before  Mrs.  Sterling  called  from  the  door-way, 

•'Lisle,  come  right  in  here  and  mind  the  baby.  She's  screaming 
herself  into  fits." 

"  Let  her  scream  herself  out  of  'eni  again,  then ;  and  if  she  don't, 
there's  enough  in  the  family  without  her  !"  shouted  back  Eddy,  de- 
fiantly, as  Lisle  commenced  rolling  down  his  pantaloons  legs  prepar- 
atory to  obeying. 

"Don't  budge  an  inch,  Lisle  ;  the  raft  wont  be  done  to-day  if  you 
do,  and  the  more  you  tend  and  coax  that  young  one,  the  more  you 
have  to.  That's  just  the  way  of  them  little  she  things!  Ten  to  one 
the  old  lady  made  her  squall.  She  never  lets  you  play  a  minute." 

Lisle  had  his  own  opinion  upon  the  subject,  but  he  said  nothing, 
and  casting  one  longing,  lingering  look  back  upon  the  rait,  went  up 
to  the  house  and  seated  himself  by  the  huge  iron-bound  cradle, 
which  had  creaked  to  sleep  not  only  the  present  generation  of  Ster- 
lings, but  two  broods  in  the  ascendant.  The  more  he  strove  to  rock 
the  baby  into  quietude,  the  louder  she  screamed,  and  administering 
a  box  on  his  ear,  Mr;?.  Sterling  bnde  him  take  her  up.  It  was  a  fat, 
hi  avy  child,  nearly  a  year  gone  in  teething,  and  Lisle  could  scarcely 
lift  her,  but  once  having  gotten  her  upon  his  lap  he  was  rewarded 
by  an  instantaneous  cessation  of  the  protesting  yells,  and  resting  her 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  [  49 

head  back  upon  his  breast,  she  fell  into  a  silent  and  absorbed  con- 
templation of  her  chubby  fists,  as  if  speculating  upon  the  unknown 
purpose  for  which  they  were  made.  Thus  relieved  from  any  active 
care  in  her  behalf,  Lisle  fell  into  a  study  upon  the  construction  oif 
the  raft,  and  planned  how  he  should  secure  possession  of  a  ie'w  nails 
much  needed  to  make  a  neat  job  of  it. 

"What  are  you  sulking  about  now,  young  gentleman  r"  asked  Mrs. 
Sterling  so  suddenly  that  he  came  out  of  his  musings  wilh  a  little 
start. 

'•  Nothing;  that  is— I  mean  to  say" — and  at  a  lo^s  what  to  reply, 
he  stopped  short. 

"  Yes,  I'll  warrant  you  do!  None  of  your  impudence  to  me,  sir." 
He  raised  his  eyes  deprecatingly,  and  commenced  to  reply,  but  feel- 
ing assured  that  denial  of  any  accusation,  however  unreasonable,  "was 
worse  than  useless  with  her,  he  closed  his  lips  and  said  nothing. 

" I  caught  you  at  it  this  time,  sly  as  you  are!  I'll  teach  you  to 
think  up  impudence  towards  your  mother  !"  and  bho  reached  for  the 
ever-ready  rawhide. 

"  Truly,  mother,  I  wasn't  thinking  anything  saucy  at  all!  It  was 
only  about  the  raft." 

'•Now  tell  a  lie  about  it,  will  you!  Put  down  the  baby  and  get 
up  here.  I  won't  leave  an  inch  of  skin  on  your  body,  you  evil  boy!" 

Lisle  placed  the  baby  in  the  cradle  which  he  took  care  to  inter- 
pose between  himself  and  the  uplifted  whip,  and  stopped  back  Avhile 
a.  hot  flush  dyed  his  face  and  as  suddenly  retreated  leaving  it  like 
marble  ;  and  there  was  something  ominous  in  the  tone  with  which 
he  said, 

"  No,  you  won't  whip  me,  mother.  You've  struck  me  the  last  blow 
you'll  ever  give  me." 

"  What's  that,  you  hop  of  my  thumb  !     You  dare  me?" 

"  No,  I  only  say  I'll  never  stand  it  again !  never .'" 

Mrs.  Sterling  took  two  hasty  steps  around  the  cradle. 

"  Seize  her,  Pompey,"  commanded  Lisle. 

T.olh  to  obey,  yet  ever  faithful,  Pompey  sprang  forward  between 
them,  and  showed  his  teeth  savagely.  Mrs.  Sterling  screamed,  as 
much  in  anger  as  in  flight.  She  dared  not  advance,  and  after  a  mo- 
ment of  mutual  defiance,  through  which  Lisle  stood  with  eyes  ablaze, 
she  said  threateningly, 

'•  I'll  have  this  dog  shot  within  an  hour.     Then  we'll  see!" 

"  Lydia,  let  the  boy  alone.  lie  is  too  large  for  you. to  manage 
now.  Turn  him  over  into  his  father's  hands,  in  future,''  interposed 


CO  THE  HOUSE  UriTIXD  THE  rCPLAES. 

the  voice  of  Mr.  Fitzj-imes,  who,  from  the  adjoining  room  hnd  seen 
and  heard  all  that  transpired. 

'•  That  I  will,  Warren,  and  he  shall  get  such  a  tanning  as  he  never 
got  yet.  Go  up  to  your  room,  young  man,  and  don't  you  show  your 
fVice  till  you  are  called.  Just  make  the  most  of  your  bones  whilc- 
they're  whole,  too,  I  advise  you." 

Calling  Pompey  witli  him  for  safe-keeping.  Lisle  obeyed,  and  ro- 
m  lined  in  his  room  till  Mr.  Sterling  himself  opened  the  d"or  and 
came  very  seriously  in. 

"  What's  all  thi=,  Lisle-?     Did  you  set  the  dog  on  your  mother?" 

"  Ycs»,  sir,  I  hoped  he'd  kill  her  if  she  struck  me  !" 

Mr.  Sterling  raised  his  hands  in  horror,  but  not  a  -word  fell  from 
hi*  lips.  Lisle  bur^t  out  impetuously, 

"I  know  it.     I'll  be  hanged  if  I  have  to  stay  here.  I  know  I 
and  you'll  be  the  one  to  blame,  too,  for  not  letting  me  go  off  long 
ago  when  I  wanted  to.     I'll  go  to-monow  if  I'm  alive." 

"To  drive  horses  on  the  c  >nal  ?" 

"  Yes,  or  anything  else.     I  won't  live  here.     I  hate  the  ve:  • 
that  shines  on  this  house  !" 

'•  Th^n  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  Don't  you  think  it's 
my  duly  to  whip  you  for  your  conduct  towards  your  mother?'' 

"No.  I  don't,  and  I  won't  take  it.     She  is  the  one  to  b'ame,  nnd 
I  didn't  want  to  quarrel.     She's  always  treated  me  worse  than  a 
:;iid  always  hated  me." 

"No  she  hasn't.     It  an't  natural  for  any  mother  to  hate  her  child.'' 

"But  you.  sir,  don't  know  all,  and  I  do.  I  could  make  you  h:xtc 
h^r  worse  than  I  do,  but  I  won't.  Only  let  me  go  away  from  here 
forever,  and  I'll  never  open  my  lips  against  her." 

'•I'm  going  to  send  you  away.     I've  spoken  to  your  uncle  Frz- 
.  ?  about  it.  and  he  will  take  You  home  wi'h  him." 

"Tin-re,  f  ithcr,  that  shows  1  wa-n't  the  one  to  blame  !     H    ] 

word  of  it,  and  if  I  was  such  an  a\\ful  boy  ho  wouldn't  have 
>nr  him." 

'  You  are  too  bad  to  be  allowed  among  your  little  brothers  nnd 

.  and  with  him  you  can't  set  a  bad  example  before  any  chil- 

Come  to  dinner  now,  if  you  think  you  deserve  any  :  I  don't." 

Lisle  was  not  in  the  spidt  to  accept  another's  estimate  of  his  mer- 
'.'.-  an  1  deserving?,  so  he  took  his  accustomed  place  among  the  se- 
r    u>fice-=>urrounding  the  ri'tnrr  table.     He  cast  miny  i. 
gliiKx1  upon  Mr.  Fiizjames.  hoping  to  obt-iin  s  >me  clue  to  his  opinion 
of  the  mof  ning's  adventure,  but  not  a  reaponsive  glance  met  his  own, 


TIIE  HOUSE   LliHIND   THE   POPLARS.  51 

and  not  a  word  relative  to  himself  was  uttered  ti:l  Mr.  Fitzjauies 
finished  his  meal  and  shoved  back  his  chair,  when  he  said  briefly, 

"  I  hope  the  boy  will  be  gotten  ready  to  leave  next  week ;  I  mean 
to  start  for  home  Tuesday." 

"A  pretty  pa-s  it's  come  to  now,  young  man  !"  said  Mrs.  Sterling 
to  Lisle,  "I  hope  your  uncle  will  shut  you  up  in  his  nigger  pen  and 
give  you  what  you  deserve.  Now  go  down  to  Dr.  Kelley's  and  give 
a  report  of  yourself,  and  ask  Mrs.  Kelley  if  she's  likely  to  get  the 
thirts  she's  making  you  done  by  Tuesday." 

Mr.  Sterling  loolfed  up  as  the  door  closed,  and  said  slowly, 

"  I  don't  see,  wife,  why  you  can't  get  along  with  that  boy.  Every 
body  else  seems  to  like  him.  I  hope  no  judgment  will  follow  his 
being  sent  away  from  his  own  home  in  this  way.  It  seems  strange 
a  mother  can't  live  with  her  own  child." 

"He's  no  child  of  mine!  There  an't  a  drop  of  Fitzjames  blood  in 
Lim,  and  never  was.  He's  just  a  mean,  tricky,  miserable  Sterling,  and 
won't  come  to  anything  better  !  besides  it's  none  of  my  notion  having 
him  sent  away.  Pd  find  a  way  to  manage  him,  if  he  was  kept  at 
liome.  That  dog'll  be  shot  dead  enough  before  he  gets  back  from 
the  doctor's,  and  he  won't  have  him  so  handy  next  time." 

Mr.  Sterling  rubbed  his  large  hands  together,  and  drew  a  long 
breath  of  meek  resignation,  and  the  conversation  was  closed  by  Eddy 
making  his  appearance  for  his  dinner.  Tossing  his  hat  in  a  corner, 
ho  waited  for  no  ceremony,  and  all  unwashed  as  he  AVOS  since  his 
labors  upon  the  raft,  commenced  his  meal. 

•'Eddy,  why  didn't  you  come  when  the  rest  did?  Your  dinner  is 
all  cold,  now,  and  there  wasn't  any  reason  for  waiting  so,"  said  his 
mother,  helping  him  liberally  to  what  was  before  him. 

"  I  wasn't  ready  to  come  then.  Do  you  want  me  to  do  like  the 
pigs,  who  run. squealing  and  stick  their  noses  in  the  trough  the 
minute  you  say  '  swill '  to  'em  ?  I'm  a  human  boy." 

"  You'll  be  a  drowned  one  if  you  don't  keep  away  from  the  pond." 

"  Well,  then  you'll  only  have  to  bury  me — thatis  if  pa  can  be  made 
to  sliel?  out  the  money.  I  heard  you  groaning  once  when  you 
thought  Lisle  was  going  dead,  beer. use  it  would  'co.sttwenly  dollars 
to  bury  him,  and  mourning  bcsi'les.'  You  can  just  leave  out  the 
mourning,  for  me,  dame ;  I'll  bury  just  as  well  without  any,  Oh  give 
us  a  hot  potato  for  the  love  of" — 

"  Edward,"  exclaimed  his  father  sternly. 

"  Well,  then,  '  Amen!'  but  it's  hard  when  a  fellow  can't  a«k  his  own 
blessing.  But  siy,  pa,  what's  the  use  of  asking  a  blessing  over  the 


52  THE   HOUSE   DEHIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

grub,  like  you  ?  If  the  Lord  wants  to  bless  a  fellow,  he'll  do  it,  and 
if  he  dont,  lie  an't  going  to  be  worried  into  it." 

'•  Let  your  victuals  stop  your  mouth,  sir.     You  talk  too  much." 

'•  Won't  you  let  the  boy  speak,  Mr.  Sterling  V  asked  bis  wife  quer- 
ulously. "If  it  was  Lisle,  now,  you'd  think  he  was  pinfeathei  ing 
out  for  a  philosopher." 

Nothing  more  was  said  till  Eddy  finished  eating,  and  took  his  hat. 

'•  Where's  Lisle  ?"  he  asked,  unconscious  of  the  morning's  incident. 

"  Gone  to  Dr.  Kcllcy's,  to  tell  them  he's  going  to  be  sent  away  from 
home  next  week.  He's  going  away  with  his  uncle,  to  live  in  a  nig- 
ger-pen and  get  flogged  into  decency,"  replied  his  mother. 

"  By  hoky  !  If  Lisle  go  ;s  I'll  go  too.  I  an't  going  to  stay  shut 
up  here  a*one  with  the  girls.  I  never  could  bear  girls  to  play  with  ! 
They  just  want  to  fuss  a  boy  into  '  a  s:ck  baby '  and  pull  him  around 
in  a  pinning  blanket  all  the  time.  They  never  will  learn  a  decent 
play  !  "When  is  Lisle  coming  back  homo  ?'' 

"  Never,  I  hope,  but  don't  ask  me.     I'm  done  with  him." 

Eddy's  loquacity  was  thoroughly  checked,  and  he  went  out  with- 
out another  word. 


Mr?.  Kclley  marie  few  comment}  when  Lisle  made  the  announce- 
ment of  his  approaching  banishment  from  home,  but  taking  a  more 
cheerful  view  of  it  than  had  yet  occurred  to  him,  felt  a  real  thank- 
fulness that  he  was  to  be  released  from  his  unhappy  situation  under 
ihe  roof  of  a  mother  who  unnaturally  persecuted  and  disliked  him. 
The  doctors  first  pang  under  the  impending  separation,  soon  died 
away  as  he  realized  that  any  change  in  the  boy's  life  must  be  for  the 
better ;  and  looking  into  the  future,  he  thought  how  naturally  a  mu- 
tual attachment  might  thus  spring  up  between  Lisle  and  his  uncle, 
which  would  be  a  lasting  benefit  to  the  son  he  could  never  acknowl- 
edge and  provide  for  as  he  so  longed  to  do.  The  future  had  looked 
dark  and  hopeless,  and  here  was  light  from  a  quarter  most  of  all  to 
be  desire '1  upon  Lislc's  own  account.  Had  anything  been  necessary 
to  reconcile  him  to  the  proposed  change,  this  cheerful  scquiesence 
of  the  doctor  and  his  wife  would  have  effected  it,  and  he  turned  home- 
ward with  elastic  step.  The  report  of  a  gun,  as  he  neared  home, 
stayed  Irs  footsteps  and  brought  his  heart  into  his  mouth.  Pompey ! 
How  could  he  hnfve  forgottpn  him  after  that  threat !  Seldom  al- 
lowed to  leave  the  place,  he  had  seen  Lisle  depart,  without  any  man- 
ifestation: nnd  with  his  own  head  full  of  other  thoughts,  Lisle  had 
forgotten  him.  The  report  of  that  fatal  shot  was  more  bitter  than 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIiVD   THE   POPLARS.  53 

his  own  death  blow  would  have  been,  and  choked  by  grief  and  pas- 
sion he  stood  a  moment  without  power  to  move.  Poor,  faithful 
Pompey  !  He  had  died  literally  for  him,  and  wrung  anew  by  the 
thought,  he  turned  away  and  walked  into  the  woods  where  no  eyes 
might  chance  upon  his  sorrow. 

Grief  invariably  seeks  to  revenge  itself  upon  some  object  directly 
or  indirectly  connected  with  its  cause,  and  if  to  Lisle's  poignant  so;- 
row  for  his  dumb  friend  and  protector,  a  hatred  as  bitter  succeeded, 
and  welled  up  towards  his  mother,  it  was  only  human  justice.  Sho 
had  wilfully  and  maliciously  caused  him  this  anguish,  and  he  sol- 
emnly vowed  never  to  forgive  or  forget  it ! 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  he  returned  home,  and  merciful  hnnds 
had  buried  Pompey  from  his  eyes,  despite  Mrs.  Sterling's  remon- 
strances, who,  thus  deprived  of  half  her  vengeance,  waited  exultingly 
for  the  btorm  of  grief  she  knew  must  follow  the  death  of  the  one 
staunch  friend  and  playfellow  Lisle  had  ever  known,  beside  his 
brother.  But  not  a  trace  of  emotion  was  visible  upon  his  lace  as 
she  saw  him  receive  the  announcement  Eddy  indignantly  poured 
forth,  and  mentally  querying  "  what  on  earth  the  boy  was  made  of," 
she  felt  her  victory  robbed  of  all  triumph,  while  her  brother  oul- 
spokeuly  declared  it  "  a  mean  aclion  of  which  a  Fitzjaines  should  be 
ashamed." 


TUB  UOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  hour  of  departure  arrived,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sterling  drove 
to  down  with  Lisle  for  his  parting  visit  to  the  doctor's  family. 

Little  Julie  was  inconsolable.  Of  her  two  playfellows,  he  was 
much  the  most  popular  and  beloved,  and  though  she  had  long  out- 
grown the  horrible  executions  of  former  days,  which  even  the  vic- 
tims themselves  some  way  survived  till  decayed  dollhood  finished 
their  earthly  career,  Eddy  was  still  too  tormenting  a  companion  to 
be  as  popular  as  his  more  gentle  brother.  She  refused  to  aay  good 
bye,  but  flew  to  the  library,  alone,  where  he  found  her  sobbing  with 
her  face  bowed  upon  the  table  at  which  so  many  happy  hours  had 
been  spent  among  their  books  and  pictures. 

Vainly  searching  for  some  word  of  comfort,  he  laid  his  hand  upon 
her  head.  She  pushed  it  off  with  mingled  grief  and  anger,  and  re- 
fused to  look  up. 

"Well,  Julie,"  he  said  at  last,  making  a  pretence  of  going;  "Tin 
sorry  you  won't  kiss  me  good-bye.  If  I  never  come  back,  how  will 
you  like  to  remember  that  you  treated  me  so  the  last  time  you  ever 
saw  me  ?" 

Shoving  back  her  chair,  she  sprang  impulsively  into  his  arms, 
and  covered  his  face  with  kisses  ns  she  sobbed, 

'•  No,  no;  I'm  not  angry  with  you,  but  I'll  hate  your  old  uncle  as 
long  as  I  live,  for  taking  you  away  !  He  don't  want  you  half  as  much 
as  I  do.  I  haven't  any  body  left  now !" 

"  No,  I  only  wish  he  did  want  me.  I'm  sent  with  him,  Julie — sent 
away  where  no  body  wants  me !  It's  bad  enough  without  your 
making  it  any  worse.  I'll  came  back  and  see  you  when  I'm  a  man, 
and  thai  won't  be  long.  You'll  write  me  lots  of  letters,  won't  you?" 

li  Yes ;  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  Eddy,  who,  though  he's  a  boy. 
can't  write  near  as  well  as  I  can,"  and  she  dashed  away  her  tcurs  at 
ihe  thought  that  such  a  link  of  companionship  was  yet  left  them. 

"  Come,  Lisle,  we  are  all  waiting  for  you,"  said  the  doc' or,  open- 
ing the  door.  Tenderly  unclasping  the  arms  Julie  again  threw 
around  him,  Lisle  pressed  back  the  tears  which  sprang  "to  his  eyes, 


HOUSE  LEHI:-;D  122  POPLAES.  55 

and  slipping  his  linn  1  within  the  doctor'.-;,  ieft  tb.e  room.  They 
stopped  in  the  hall,  and  raising  Lisle's  f  ice  to  his  breast  the  doctor 
said  with  a  voice  he  vainly  strove  to  reader  firm, 

<lMy  boy,  I  believe  that  you  know  I  am  your  friend,  and  that  you 
love  me  a  little — don't  you  ?"  . 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  love  you  very  much ;  you  were  rdwnys  my  friend." 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  if  you  are  unhappy  you  wiU 
let  me  know  it.  I  hope  you  will  have  a  more  happy  home  with  your 
uncle,  than  you  have  ever  known  yet;  but  if  not,  and  yon  do  not 
like  to  stiy  with  him  after  you  have  given  it  a  thorough  trial,  write 
me  so,  and  something  shall  be  clone  for  you  at  once.  Do  you  prom- 
ise me  this?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  are  very  kind;  but  I  think  I  shall  like  uncle.  I  know 
I  shall  if  he  will  let  me,  and  I  think  he's  a  good  man — but  no  one  is 
as  good  as  you  are." 

"I  have  no  doubt,  Lide,  that  you  will  love  each  other  too  well 
ever  to  part,  and  I  must  tell  you,  that  if  so,  it  will  be  the  best  that 
can  p.  ssibly  happen  to  you.  Your  troubles  would  be  pretty  much 
over,  then,  and  you  woul  !  he  scared  many  that  you  do  not  know 

"  I  can't  have  any  more  than  I  always  have  had,  any  way,"  said 
Li-lo  pressing  his  teeth  over  the  lip  that  trembled  in  spite  of  him  : 
on  1,  warned  by  a  treacherous  swelling  in  his  own  throat  to  offer  no 
ivp'y,  the  doctor  convulsively  pressed  the  little  hand  he  belt  I,  and 
led  hi  .  to,  where  the  others  awaited  him. 

The  coach  was  wailing  to  take  the  travellers  to  the  nearest  depot; 

:r,d  Mr.  S;<  rling  seriously  shook  Lisle's  hand  as  he  bade  him  "  be  a 

good  boy,  and  kef-p  the  fear  of  the  Lord  before  Ms  eyes,"  while  Mrs. 

Sterling  pressed  her  npron  to  her  eyes  in  a  theatrical  manner,  as  she 

obbcd, 

"Good-bye,  my  son,  good-bye.  Don't  forget  your  poor  mother 
when  you  are  gone.  It's  very  hard  to  part  with  children  in  this 
way ! ' 

Lisle  raised  his  eyes  in  surprise,  and  then,  while  a  hot  flush  spread 
up  to  the  very  roots  of  his  hair,  he  turned  suddenly  and  climbed  into 
the  coach,  wHhout  a  word. 

"Wi>ff  a  bad,  ungrateful  child!''  exclaimed  an  old  lady  in  the 
h,  throwing  an  annihilating  glance  upon  him. 

coachman  cracked  his  whip,  Mr.  Fitzjamea  raised  his  hat  in 

ag  salufc,  the  horses  sprang  forward,  and  they  were  off.     Once 

more  Mrs.  Sterling  sobbed,  and  really  deceived  by  her  apparent 


56  THE  110 USE  BEHIND  TUK  POPLARS. 

grief,  it  became  contagious,  and  Mr.  St'Tling's  own  eyes  grew  miafy 
as  he  unhitched  his  liorses,  and  with  a  hasty  adieu  to  the  doctor 
and  his  wife,  they  drove  homeward. 

"  Wh'it  an  abominable  she-hypocrite  that  woman  is  !"  commented 
the  doctor  as  he  went  back  into  the  house  with  his  wife.  "  It's  a 
blessing  she  over-shot  the  mark,  for  once,  and  so  let  that  poor  child 
out  of  her  clutches." 

The  only  real  suffeivr  under  this  sepnration  WHS  Eddy,  who,  ut- 
terly refusing  all  consolation,  abandoned  himself  to  a  grief  as  pro- 
found as  it  was  silent.  Lisle  hud  vainly  searched  the  whole  prem- 
ises over,  to  bid  him  good-bye,  and  lingered  till  the  last  moment, 
hoping  he  would  appear  ;  but,  carefully  hidden  on  the  hay-loft,  lie 
heard,  unansweringly,  Lisle's  shouts  for  him,  nor  crept  forth  till  th  ; 
sound  of  departing  wheels  told  him  he  was  gone.  Then,  descend- 
ing, he  wandered  off  by  the  river,  deep  into  the  woods,  and  throwing 
himself  upon  a  mocsy  knoll,  gave  way  to  choking  sobs  and  uncon- 
trollable anguish  that  shook  him  convulsively.  At  last  his  violent 
emotion  exhausted  itself,  and,  wondering  at  his  physical  weakne-s, 
he  thought  he  might  perhaps  thus  die,  and  closed  his  eyes  hoping 
that  he  should. 

Gradually  this  feeling  subsided,  and  in  its  plnce  arose*  an  indig- 
nant sense  of  wrong  against  himself  for  which  he  could  find  no  ex- 
cuse. What  right  had  any  one  thus  to  separate  him  from  his  broth- 
er— to  rob  him  of  his  most  natural  and  best  loved  companion  !  Had 
any  one  loved  Lisle  as  he  had  always  done,  fighting  his  battles  and 
avenging  his  wrongs?  Yes,  that,  was  it!  Their  mother's  wrongs 
ngainst  him  had  caused  him  to  be  sent  away  ;  and  all  the  force  of 
his  resentment  was  turned  upon  her.  "  It  was  she  who  had  misera- 
bled  his  life  all  up  for  him!  and,  after  all,  what  right  had  she  to  do 
so ;  or  to  abuse  Lisle  in  any  way  ?  She  was  nobody  but  Lydia  Fitz- 
james  till  their  father  married  her;  and  here  she  \va«,  whipping  his 
children  as  big  as  life  !"  and  strong  in  the  justice  of  his  argument, 
he  rose,  and  crowding  his  hat  combatively  down  ovt-r  his  browe, 
went  home. 

Unfortunately,  Mrs.  Sterling  did  not  perceive  the  force  of  ]\'<  rea- 
soning when  he  r.ither  ostentatiously  advanced  it,  and  I  lie  implie-l 
slight  towards  her  family  provoked  a  vigorous  and  lengthy  : 
as  to  their  ancient  birth  and  importance,  dating  back  to  roy.  !ty  Lt« 
self,  with  the  vast  estates  in  England  which  would  in  due  coi: 
legal  proceedings  come  into  the  possession  of  the  branch  of  t 
ily  now  in  America,  and  an  assurance  that  all  the  intellect  hvi1  -A-.'-A- 


THE  nOUSB  LEIIIXD   TIIE  POPLAB3.  57 

dreii  possessed,  was  derived  from  her  side  of  the  paternity,  while 
the  Sterlings,  as  everybody  knew,  were  mere  flint  skinning  nobodies ," 
an  assertion  under  which  Mr.  Sterling  put  on  his  hat  and  meekly 
adjourned  to  more  complimentary  regions,  while  Eddy  stoutly  de- 
clared his  resolve  to  run  away  from  the  whole  tribe  of  them. 

However,  time  softened  and  undermined  his  resolution,  and  after 
sin  interval  he  returned  to  school  in  charge  over  a  younger  brother, 
in  who^e  cause  his  coat  was  pulled  off  so  many  times  a  day  that  he 
at  last  It  ft  it  off  altogether,  for  convenience,  and  so  conquered  a  place 
on  the  play  ground  for  a  wee  young  Sterling  who  was  as  ragged  and 
seedy  as  his  brothers  ever  had  been  before  him.  Only  on  one  oc- 
casion did  his  patron  saint  desert  him,  and  this  was  doubtless  owing 
to  the  fact  that  his  opponent  was  much  the  larger  and  stronger;  but 
anger  yielding  as  much  temporary  vigor  as  more  reliable  muscle, 
Eddy  reinforced  himself  from  an  unfailing  supply,  and,  having  van- 
quished the  enemy,  walked  off  declaring  he  wasn't  going  to  t.ike  all 
tiie  blows  and  let  the  other  boy  cany  off  all  the  glory. 

In  short,  having  given  him  the  physique  for  a  champion,  nature 
seemed  resolved  that  the  talent  should  not  rust  for  want  of  legiti- 
mate exercise,  and  the  very  excitement  of  it  proved  the  best  diver- 
sion from  his  stfriow. 

Meantime  Mr.  Fitzjames  and  Lisle  were  whirling  rapidly  South- 
ward, and  as  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  L:sle  saw  houses,  woods, 
jind  fields,  glide  away  from  him  as  if  by  magic — felt  hiinselt  rolling 
over  high  bridges  with  swifc,  dark  water,  seemingly  miles  bel  >\\  us 
his  inexperienced  eyes  looked  down  upon  it,  or  caught  the  earthy 
smell  of  swamps  decked  with  myiiad  strange  blossoms  and  tangled 
ferns,  he  felt  himself  in  an  unknown  and  new  world. 

His  uncle,  with  the  sang  froid  of  a  traveller,  had  comfortably  en- 
sconced himself  in  one  of  the  car  seats  which  he  turned  so  that  Lisle 
might  sit  opposite  him,  and  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  which  he  read 
or  doZL'd  over  as  inclination  prompted,  seemed  altogether  too  far  off 
in  virtue  of  sueh  sacoir  vivre,  to  be  addressed  by  so  mere  a  wight  a^ 
the  boy  seemed  to  himself  sitting  there  in  the  smallest  corner  of  space 
ho  could  shrink  into,  and  altogether  too  much  confused  and  excited 
by  all  this  novelty  to  read  one  word  of  the  book  with  which  he  ha  I 
been  advised  to  amuse  himself. 

Looking  up  from  time  to  time,  Mr.  Fitzjames  saw  that  he  was 
contented,  and  tllently  congratulating  himself  that  the  boy  was 
quiet,  and  as  genteel  as  such  shyness  admitted,  he  re-addressed  him- 
self to  his  book  or  his  nap.  Rousing  from  one  of  these,  he  observe,! 


58  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

Lislo  fixing  a  wistful,  inexplicable  gaze  upon  some  object  in  the  rear 
of  the  car,  and,  having  turned  his  own  eyes  in  the  same  direction 
without  encountering  anything  of  interest  he  asked, 

"  What  interests  you  so  much,  Lisle?  Do  you  see  anyone  you. 
know  ?" 

"Oh  no,  sir.  I  was  only  watching  that  lady  over  there  with  the 
baby.  Do  you  think  it's  her  own,  sir  ?" 

'•  Why,  yes;  I  suppose  so.  Few  ladies  care  to  tote  other  people's 
babies  around  the  country.  Why  do  you  ask  such  a  question  V 

"  Because,  sir,  she  seems  so  fond  of  it,  and  I  thought  people  never 
liked  their  own  very  much." 

"  Singular  conclusion,  that,  for  a  boy  of  your  age !  Who  upon 
earth  made  you,  iind  aren't  you  anybody's  child,  yourself?" 

"  Oh,  :-ir,''  he  began,  but  suddenly  stopped  and  colored  painfully. 

Mr.  Fitzjumes  looked  at  him  curiously  a  moment,  and  then  with 
an  inflation  of  his  cheeks  which  he  reduced  with  a  puffing  sort  of 
whistle,  said  in  a  mystified  tone, 

"The  child  must  be  illegitimate  upon  both  sides  of  the  family  ; 
he  isn't  a  bit  like  either  Lydia  or  Sterling !" 

He  turned  again  to  his  book,  but  its  interest  seemed  to  have  fled, 
and  Lisle  became  really  embarrassed  under  the  frequent  scrutinizing 
reviews  he  bestowed  upon  him,  painfully  conscious  as  he  was  of  his 
own  sickly  physique  and  almost  infantile  tout  ensemble,  and  experi- 
enced a  sensation  of  profound  iclief  when  the  closing  daylight 
screened  him  fr<-m  farther  observation.  , 

Two  or  thice  melancholy  lamps  were  set  to  condoling  with  each 
other,  by  the  biakeman,  one  of  which  glimmered  till  giimmeiing 
ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  and  then  resignedly  went  out  altogether, leav- 
ing the  others  to  hold  its  dismal  "wake"  as  best  they  might,  amidst 
which  ceremony  Lisle  fell  asleep. 

The  train  stopped  "twenty  minutes  for  refreshments,"  as  every 
one  was  informed  by  somebody,  who,  after  making  the  announce- 
ment, close  I  the  door  again  with  a  resounding  slam  that  brought 
nil  sleepers  to  waking  consciousness,  and  grasping  Lisle  firmly  by 
the  hand,  his  uncle  led  him  into  a  long  dining  hall  cluse  by  the  rail- 
way, where  much  scrambling  and  push  ng  for  places  seemed  the 
principal  i  mployment  in  hand,  and  through  which  he  at  last  found 
himself,  he.  hardly  knew  how,  seated  at  table,  where  his  uncle's 
voice,  sounding  very  for  away  and  exceedingly  cloud-like,  said  some- 
thing to  him  about  "  ocean»  of  time  for  all  we  find  here— oceans  of 


THE  HOUSE  E£iii:;D  X;J 

time  ;"  ami  a  waller  fired  down  a  litllc  Vvlicy  of  plates  with  some- 
thing edible  on  them,  and  hurried  off  as  if  hit  by  his  own  shot. 

Next  Lisle  sat  a  fat,  puffy-faced,  round-eyed,  restless -legged  boy, 
who  impatient  for  the  arrival  of  his  own  supper,  laid  violent  hands 
upon  his,  and  forthwith  commenced  a  vigorous  .onslaught,  much  t,j 
the  real  proprietor's  disgust  and  indignation.  A  sudden  and  re- 
taliatory plung  from  Lislc's  fork,  which  he  manipulated  under  tho 
table,  r-vrested  these  proceedings,  and  while  his  adversary  thok<  <1 
over  a  hugd  mouthful  which  was  surprised  into  going  down  ilij 
wrong  way,  he  repossessed  himself  of  his  purloined  supplies,  i;u  I 
went  on  with  his  meal  as  unconcernedly  as  possible.  Having  at  last 
found  voice,  the  roars  of  the  fat  boy  woke  the  echoes  of  the  room 
and  the  anthemas  of  his  listeners. 

The  old  lady  in  chuigc  of  him  shook  him  vigorously,  and  slapped 
his  back  to  relieve  his  coughing,  amid  a  storm  of  questions  us  to 
"  whatever  ailed  him,  and  what  did  he  mean  by  it  ?"  a  subject  upon 
which  he  did  uc'.  l'.:ink  lit  to  enlighten  her — probably  in  remen>- 
Lrance  of  many  a  previous  enforcement  of  the  lesson,  "  It  is  a  tin  to 
steal  a  pin,"  or  perhaps  unwilling  to  confess  how  ingloriously  he  had 
been  put  to  flight ;  and  no  one  having  seemed  to  notice  the  aff.iir, 
or  only  caring  to  have  the  uproar  quelled,  no  explanation  was  offer- 
ed, and  the  .ai  rival  of  the  fat  boy's  proper  supplies  restored  peace 
for  a  ir.cmcrt.  Then  the  fit  boy  again  was  heard,  bawling  in  a 
nassul  tone, 

"Gran'ma,  give  me  all  t'">  BBSS  there  is  in  the  deesh;  and  tie  mo 
up  some  o'  this  ere  sweet-cake  in  your  han'kercher  agin  I  gel  hun- 
gry. I  won't  be  half  full  when  the  cars  hoot.'' 

"  Hush,  sonny,  be  a  little  gentleman,  liko  that  nice  boy  t'other 
side  of  you.  lie  don't  make  so  much  fuss  at  the  table.'' 

"  Oh,  he's  a  sly  one,  he  is  !"  retorted  the  fat  boy,  rolling  his  eyes 
and  nodding  his  head  sagaciously;  jmd  then  leaning  towards  Lisle, 
•  id  offensively, 

"  I  say,  now,  don't  you  think  yourself  a  pimp  ?" 

Declining  to  express  his  opinion  of  himself  in  such  an  assi-mUy , 
appeared  not  to  have  heard  the  invitation,  and  much  to  hi* 
joy  his  uncle  said, 

"Come,  Lisle,  if  you  have  finished  eating,  we'll  go.  Travellin  •; 
cannibals  have  no  regard  for  personal  property  in  the  way  of  seats.  ' 
and  again  piloting  him  through  the  crowd  that  now  sat  scarcely  le-g 
strongly  in  the  other  direction — a  sort  of  gustatory  ebb  and  How  of 
the  human  tide — Mr.  Fitzjames  resto.ed  him  to  his  foimcr  situation, 


60  THE   HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

near  thf  defunct  lamp,  once  more  resurrected  and  now  emitting  quite 
a  glow  of  complacency. 

"  Now  toll  me,  Lisle,"  s  ml  his  uncle,  "  what  was  the  trouble  be- 
tween you  and  that  fat  boy  next  you." 

"  He  stole  my  supper,  sir." 

"  And  you  ?" — 

Lisle  hung  his  head,  unwilling  to  reply.  The  question  was  re- 
pented. 

"  What  did  you  do,  that  he  pronounced  you  '  a  sly  one  ?'" 

"  I  jabbed  him  with  my  fork,  sir,  under  the  table." 

'•  Ju;t  enough,  my  boy  ;  very  just,  only  never  do  anything  of  that 
sort  on  the  sly.  When  a  fellow  misuses  you,  just  wring  his  nose 
publicly  and  openly,  like  a  gentleman.  Underhanded  justice  al- 
ways has  a  bad  look — remember  that.'' 

"  Feugh !"  exclaimed  an  elderly  female  sitting  near,  who  overheard 
these  remarks.  "  A  pretty  fellow  he  is  to  bring  up  young  boys ! 
This  ' public  nose  wringing'  don't  do  well  in  large  families." 

Mr.  Fitzj-\mes  turned  and  politely  bowed  ! 

"  It  won't  make  any  trouble  in  yours  and  mine,  I  conclude,  mad- 
•tm,''  nnd  as  she  colored  up  indignantly,  he  said  as  if  to  himself — 
'•knew  she  was  an  old  maid, by  the  snap  and  snarl  in  her  voice  !" 
and  after  an  interval  of  silence  he  said  to  Lisle, 

"It  won't  do  you  any  harm  to  recollect — if  you  remember  judi- 
ciously — that  in  this  world,  he  who  shows  a  talent  for  receiving 
kicks,  gets  favored  with  all  there  are  going  about  unclaimed.  Turn- 
ing the  other  side  may  do  we'll  enough  iu  Paradise,  but  it's  poor 
policy  in  this  world,  and  I  wouldn't  ad^i^e  any  one  to  try  it." 

Not  a  little  surprised  by  such  teaching,  Li?le  looked  upon  his 
uncle  with  his  admiration  so  plainly  written  in  his  face  that  the  old 
gentleman  smiled  back  in  return,  and  a  little  chat  grew  up  between 
them,  in  the  midst  of  which  he  was  surprised  to  find  it  nine  o'clock, 
jm  1  quite  delighted,  when,  laying  his  hand  on  his  nephew's  head  the 
tld  gentleman  snid, 

"So,  it  seems  you  have  a  tongue  as  well  as  a  head,  after  all !  "Well, 
put  it  to  sleep,  that  it  may  run  a  little — not  too  much — to-morrow,'' 
:m  I  making  a  p;llow  of  his  extra  coat,  he  gave  it  to  him  and  bade 
him  g<>od-night.  Lisle  obeyed  the  sugsre.-tinn  with  a  happier  heart 
titan  he  had  ever  felt,  and  thought  that  if  banishment  with  fiich  :\ 
man  were  a  punishment,  he  could  endr.re  a  griatdeal  of  it,  and  wita 
the  rattling  and  rumbling  of  the  train  in  h:s  ears,  he  foil  asleep,  nor 
woke  till  they  rolled  noisily  into  the  grand  depo:. 


TliS  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  61 

"  GooJ-morning,  Lisle  ;  slept  well,  did  you  ?''  said  his  uncle  cheer- 
fully. "Now  let's  go  and  get  some  breakfast.  There's  plenty  of 
time,  as  the  boat  doesn't  leave  till  ten  o'clock." 

As  they  stepped  upon  the  platform,  they  met  the  fat,  round-eyed 
boy  and  his  granuaui  is-uing  from  the  adjoining  car.  The  boy  raised 
Lis  fist,  which  he  clenched  suggestively  at  Lisle,  and — "  remember- 
ing judiciously," — Lisle  slightly  elevated  his  chin  in  a  manner  which 
said,  "You'd  better  try  it,  once,"  and  so  each  went  his  way,  Lisle 
hoping  it  forever. 

What,  then,  was  his  annoyance,  ns,  breakfast  over,  they  went  on 
board  the  steamer,  to  see  this  awful  boy  perched  upon  a  dry-goods 
l.ox  from  which  he  was  dangling  and  swinging  his  legs  with  a  vigor 
which  brought  his  strong  cowhide  shoes  with  a  resounding  thump 
against  the  box  end,  while  a  huge  piece  of  gingerbread  absorbed  his 
undivided  attention,  as  ho  bit  from  it  endwise,  lengthwise,  corner- 
wise  and  across,  in  an  impartial  endeavor  to  treat  it  all  alike,  fixing 
his  eyes  upon  it  greedily  after  each  attack,  while  he  suulfed  to  avoid 
losing  time  by  the  use  of  his  coat  sleeve,  which  was  quite  glazed  by 
previous  efforts  in  that  direction. 

Lisle's  lip  curled  contemptuously ;  but  the  superior  charms  of 
ginger-bread  kept  him  unnoticed,  and  he  watched  the  complete  de- 
moiiiion  of  it,  and  the  smacking  and  lip-licking  operation  which 
followed  it,  only  leaving  his  post  of  observation  when  the  sprawled 
digital  members  of  the  two  cake-covered  hands  reached  down  and 
wiped  themselves  upon  the  gray  pantaloons  covering  the  fat  legs, 
and  the  boy  turned  round  to  see  what  changes  had  taken  place  dur- 
ing his  recent  labors. 

Going  up  the  saloon,  Lisle  there  found  the  old  grandam  herself, 
in  wofully  pinched  attire  except  as  regarded  her  bonnet,  which,  to 
make  amends,  was  three  times  as  lart;e  ns  it  should  have  been  had 
it  conducted  itself  with  propriety.  Sitting  upon  the  extreme  edge 
of  the  sofa,  and  quite  as  if  she  asked  its  pardon  for  taking  even  that 
liberty,  she  was  explaining  to  the  patronizing  stewardess  that  she 
was  "going  down  to  Kentuck'  to  a  married  darter  as  lived  at  Louis- 
ville, bringing  along  a  sweet  little  graii'son  as  was  just  left  an  orfing, 
and  was  to  live  now  with  Sally  Ann." 

The  warning  whi>tle  was  given,  and  there  was  a  general  rush  of 
those  who  were  on  the  ieve*  and  meant  to  come  on  board,  and  those 
who,  coming  on  board  for  last  good-byes,  wanted  to  get  off.  An- 
other whistle,  soon  followed  by  a  sort  of  shudder  through  the  steamer, 
and  a  line  of  water  spread  between  it  and  the  shore.  Lisle  looked 


62  'HIE  HOUSE  UlilllXD  THIi  rOPIAHS. 

around  for  his  uncle  ;  but  he  had  not  yet  come  up,  and  •will)  a  sink- 
ing heart  he  queried  what  if  he  might  have  been  left. 

The  fat  boy  came  up,  licking  his  lingers  after  some  farther  delec- 
tation, and  walking  up  to  (he  sola  where  Lisle  sat,  he  stopped  and 
looked  him  fully  in  the  face  a  moment,  before  he  taid, 

"  t:o,  my  lark,  you're  going  down  Ihe  river,  too,  are  you  ?  See  here 
now;  you  just  >t!ck  (hat  ere  fork  o'  yourninto  me  agin,  and  I'll  swal- 
ler  you  whole,  /  will!'' 

"As  you"  did  'all  the  sass  in  the  deesh.'hcy  ;  or  that  hunk  of  gin- 
gerbread, you  ate  down  stairs,  and  never  blowed  your  nose  once  th •) 
whole  time!" 

"  You  sassy  little  skeleton,  I'd  whale  you  right  now  if  yor  bones 
wouldn't  cut  me.  Let  me  ever  cetch  you  snenkin'  around  my  house 
down  in  Kenluck',  and  I'll  have  one  o'  my  niggers  chaw  you  into 
mince  meat,  I  will !" 

Curling  his  lip  contemptuously,  Li-lc  walked  away  in  dignified 
silence,  glad  enough  to  see  his  uncle  at  lhat  moment  come  up  stairs, 
and  joining  him  he  avoided  the  round-eyed  boy,  and  so  overcame 
the  temptation  which  tingled  at  his  skillful  finger  lips.  Mutually 
pleased,  if  silent,  they  read  side  by  side,  or  enjoyed  the  beauty  of 
the  vine-covered  hills,  below  which  (hey  passed,  and  Lisle's  imagina- 
tion wande'-ed  off  to  all  the  vineyard  stork  s  he  had  ever  read,  among 
which  romantic  recollections  time  passed  by  unheeded  till  the  din- 
ner gong  aroused  him.  Begging  his  uncle  to  be  sure  and  not  place 
him  near  the  awi'ul  boy,  due  care  was  observed,  and  no  unpleasant 
adventure  happened  to  mar  the  satisfaction  he  felt  with  himself  dc- 
f-pite  his  being  twice  enjoined  not  to  pay  ':yes,  sir  "  to  the  waiters. 
lite  fear  of  his  uncle  was  gone,  and  could  he  only  have  felt  that  he 
was  wanted  by  him,  instead  of  endured  as  a  necessity,  he  would  have 
been  happy. 

He  w;is  unfeignedly  sorry  when  the  pleas-ant  river  journey  ended, 
and  they  arrived  at  Louisville.  Mr.  Fitrjames  resided  on  his  pi  m- 
t  itioii,  a  few  miles  from  the  city,  and  a  carriage  was  soon  engaged 
to  carry  them  out  to  it.  A  drizzling  rain  filled  the  air  with. gloom, 
and  the  mud  spattered  upon  the  windows  and  dripped  from  the 
wheels  in  a  manner  indicative  of  many  days  previous  frizzle.  Tho 
whole  sceueiy  seemed  painfully  destitute  of  beauty  compared  with 
that  he  had  seen  on  the  liver,  and,  a  victim  to  loneliness  for  (ho 
hour,  Lisle  looked  out  dismally. 

"  You  wish  yourself  back  home  ?"  asked  his  uncle  having  watched, 
him  through  a  five  m'nutcs  silence. 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLAHS.  63 

"  No,  sir,  not  unless  you  wish  I  was  there." 

"  And  if  I  did— what  then  ?" 

"  I'll  go  away  from  you,  sir,  if  you  don't  want  me ;  but  I'll  never 
go  back  there  to  live  as  l<mg  as  the  soul  of  a  boy  is  in  ine  I  I  d  go 
to  the  hottest  place  the  Bible  tells  of  first!" 

"  Well,  it  isn't  worth  while  shouldering  your  knapsack  ju*t  yet. 
If  I  hadn't  wanted  you  I  shouldn't  have  brought  you.  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  now  as  ever,  that  I  went  North  this  summer  just  to  see 
my  sister's  children,  and  discover  whether  any  one;  among  them 
•would  make  me  a  comfortable  companion  in  my  old  age.  I  didn't 
vri-li  finy  of  them  to  prime  and  load  themselves  for  the  occasion; 
and  that  they  might  not  do  so,  I  think  I  pretty  thoroughly  snubbed 
the  whole  of  you.  I  hud  about  deckled  to  ask  for  you,  when  that 
lit'.le  family  scene  occurred  which  ended  in  poor  Pompey's  winning 
a  martyr's  crown,  and  I  availed  myself  of  it  to  seem  to  be  conf'.-rrin;;- 
a  fuvor  where  I  did  not  wish  to  ask  one  which  would  be  presumed 
upon." 

''No,  sir,  I  should  never  do  that !     I  an't  mean,  if  I  am  sickly !" 

"Nonsense,  child,  no  one  supposes  you  would.  Don't  be  egotisti- 
cal in  app.ying  to  yourself  remarks  intended  for  your  eldirs.  I 
don't  think  you  have  been  spoiled  by  favoritism  at  home,  ami  if  you 
are  inclined  to  make  anything  of  yourself,  I'll  do  my  part  towards 
helping  you.  I  suppose  the  first  thing  needed  is  a  tutor." 

"Oh,  I  should  like  it  of  all  things,  if  it  isn't  too  much  trouble." 

"  Trouble  to  whom,  pray  ?  Not  to  me,  as  I  shall  neither  teach 
nor  flog;  and  if  your  tutor  isn't  sufficiently  up  to  his  own  business 
not  to  be  troubled  by  it,  we'll  find  another  who  esteems  it  a  pleasure. 
As  for  me,  I  shall  thus  have  you  conscientiously  off  my  hands." 

Lisle  turned  away  with  a  shadow  of  the  old  weight  Hitting  from 
his  heart  across  his  face,  and  his  uncle  said  more  gently, 

"  You  must  try  to  outlive  this  over  sensitiveness,  Lisle.  One 
doesn't  know  how  to  talk  to  such  a  very  serious  you'.h.  A  mo  !; 
uncomfortable  sort  of  people  are  those  who  are  always  dislocating 
their  spines  stretching  for  insults  not  intended  for  them,  and  ac- 
cepting literally  every  word  one  utters !  I  mean  to  do  the  best  I 
cm  for  you,  in  ail  kinrlness ;  and  if  we  do  not  come  to  like  each 
other,  it  will  not  be  my  fault,  but  our  mutual  misfortune." 

A  delighted  smile  lit  up  L;sle's  paleface;  but  it  quickly  faded 
out,  and  he  said  humbly, 

"I'm  afraid  you  don't  know  how  bad  I  am,  sir." 


04  TIIU  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   roi'i-AUS. 

"Well,  what  inak  s  you  lb;ul'  if  you  don't  enjoy  it?  an  i  I  really 
dou't  see  that  it  ha^  put  any  ficsh  oil  your  bones." 

"Everybody,  most,  rnikts  me  worse  than  I  want  to  be.  When  a 
boy  is  half  sick  all  the  time,  and  Lan't  r.ny  more  strength  than  a 
girl,  nor  so  much,  all  the  boys  keep  putting  upon  him,  and  put  ir.g 
upon  him,  till  he  has  to  find  sonii;  way  to  get  even,  and  he  can't  ai- 
top  when  he's  done  juit  enough  ;  and  then  the  grown-up  peo- 
ple kind  of  shiver  at  him  and  s  iy  how  bad  ho  is,  till  his  heart  gets 
as  he.ivy  as  a  stone,  and  harder.  It's  h:ird  trying  to  be  the  only 
goo  1  cue  there  is,  and  nobody  trying  to  help.'' 

The  earnestness  with  which  this  was  uttered  quite  repressed  his 
uncle's  inclination  to  smile,  and  kindly  smoothing  his  head  he  said, 

"Well,  let  by-gone  s  be  by-gones,  anl  commence  again.  Here  no 
one  will  annoy  you,  and  whenever  you  want  anything 'to  help,' 
just  let  me  know  it.  I'm  not  accustomed  to  children  and  their 
ways  and  wants,  and  imy  not  think  of  much  which  I  ought  to,  but, 
as  the  French  say,  '  I  shall  make  mine  po-s'.ble.' " 

A  new  order  of  things  dawned  upon  Lide's  mental  vision,  and  he 
felt  that  ''  being  good ''  would  be  very  easy  under  such  circum- 
stances. Casting  a  retrospective  glance  upon  Ins  school-day  perse- 
cutions, he  wondered  what  Bill  B.own  would  .-ay  if  he  could  see 
him  now,  and  thought  how  astonished  he  would  be  in  that  futuic 
now  dawning,  when  he  should  walk  past  him  in  a  spi lit  of  mild 
forgiveness,  too  genteel  even  to  notice  him. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  65 


CHAPTER  VII. 

COLORED  by  this  light  from  within^  the  rather  lonely  house  and 
spacious  but  unadorned  yard  looked  really  cheerful  to  him  as  the  y 
dtove  to'the  door,  despite  the  fine  ruin  that  still  fell,  though  now 
with  a  misty  laziness  which  veiled  everything  in  sombre  shade1. 

The  house  itself  was  completely  clo-ed,  and  the  dark  figured  win- 
dow shades  were  lowered  to  the  very  sills,  as  if  determined  that  not 
even  a  ray  of  light  should  enter  during  the  master's  absence  ;  but 
from  the  kitchen,  standing  by  itself  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the  house, 
several  woolly  Lends  protruded  to  investigate  the  cause  of  roiling 
wheels,  nnd  then  rushed  noisily  out  till  the  carriage  was  surrounded 
by  gesticulating  figures,  and  so  many  tongues  running  simulta- 
neously that  not  a  word  was  intelligible. 

"Oh,  yes,  yes" — exclaimed  Mr.  Fitzjames,  putting  both  hands  to 
his  ears  to  shut  out  the  din — "very  glad  to  see  you,  but  I  pray  you 
won't  drive  me  distracted.  I'd  rather  s:;e  one  housekeeper  than  the 
whole  of  you  !  Tell  Mrs.  Drew  to  k-t  us  in,  and  give  us  a  hot  sup- 
per !" 

Even  as  lie  spoke,  the  door  opening  upon  the  front  veranda  swung 
back,  window-shades  were  drawn  up.  anil  a  hasty  shaking  out  of 
things  in  general,  prepared  the  room  for  his  reception. 

Confuted  by  the  noise  and  novelty  around  him,  Lisle  made  his 
way  into  the  house  in  time  to  see  his  uncle  shaking  hands  with  a 
middle-aged  person  in  a  housekeeper's  apron,  of  whom  "  fat,  fair  and 
forty  "  formed  a  sufficiently  accurate  description. 

"Mrs.  Drew,  this  is  my  nephew,  Master  Lisle  Sterling.  I  rely 
upon  you  to  mike  him  comfortable.  Give  him  the  room  next  miiv, 
up  stair? ,  and  see  that  his  sheets  are  well  aired,  and  all  that.  lie's 
a  little  delicate,  as  you  see." 

"Which  it's  not  a  little,  I  should  say,  sir.  I  shall  cuddle  and  do 
for  him  like  he  was  my  own  child,  sir,  I'm  sure  !" 

Li<le  thought  her  a  decidedly  comfortable  looking  woman  as  she 
departed  briskly  upon  her  mission,  and  was  privately  glad  she  w  \ ; 
not  tall,  lean,  and  skinny,  with  a  sli'irp  nose.  Siic  retained  in  a  fV.v 


CJ  TI:E  nc  .VD  THE  POPLARS. 

rahiute?,  and  -i;k!n;r  if  he  would  like  to  st.-e  hi;  room,  p 
through  a  dark  hali,  and  up  a  stair-ca-e  amid  whose  windings  \u 
quite  lost  sight  of  her,  and  in  one  of  who-;e  angles  he  ran  fu'.l 
a  lauk,  loos  -ly  put  together  girl  about  h  s  own  size.  who.  finger  in 
mouth,  there  In  j  m  wait  for  him,  with  her  chin  dropped  into  the  neck 
s  and  her  white  hair  quite  threatening  to  frowze  eirir    . 
out  of  the  two  consumptive  braids  dangling  down  her  back. 

'-Drat  the  boy :  Inn't  he  cot  no  eyesight  T'  ejacuh'ed  thp  ; 
lady,  putting  hirself  to  rights  aft'-r  the  encounter  by  seizi 
lower  part  of  her  dre>s-w.  _ivir,g  it  a  vigorous  t 

right.     Lisle  thought  tlm  ncti<  u  the  most  mvst  rious  and  ec 
one  he  :;acl  iver  behel  1.  though  he  L-:irn-:d  afterward,  that  he 
-  always  pe  sisted  i.i  going  away  <-ither  to  the  right  or  . 
the  centre  of  gravity,  and  were  never,  by  any  Vitality,  upright,  pr  p- 

'  ave     d:e  -•• ..aists. 

'•Mirii^sv.  stand  a-id?  and  don't  stare  at  Master  Sterling  s 
ho  all  sirange  like  in  the  hous<- !''  called  her  mother,  k 

•ie  upper  slop  which  she  had  gained  quite  out  of  brc.  : 
led  ir. 

TVit'i  a  feeling  of  annoyance  at  encountering  ?;rls  everywhere,  who 
insulted  hi:  ••:.  and  vr,  r3  so  aggravate!-;  "y  prot-.-ctiag. 

1  on  and  was  shown  into  his  room. 
i  see.  sir.  your  trunk  nrd  all's  hire.     Which  it's  a  mere  ; 
of  a  trunk,  too,  to  carry  all  a  ;'onng  gentleman's  c'othfs  an  i  t 
v!th  the  brushes  taking  rp  so  much  room,  and  the  beirs 

::\2  to  g  t  broke.  Supper's  getting  itself  ready  in 
half  an  hour,  sir."  with  which  announcement  she  left  him,  no  1  ss 
out  of  breath  and  quite  as  red  in  the  face. 

Much  a-  Lisle  had  always  wished  to  le  ive  his  own  home,  desperate 
05  w.  re  the  resolutions  he  had  many  tinrs  formed  to  do  ? 
as  he  wa?  to  have  come  with  his  uncle  it  wa?  with  a  f  lilnic: 
that  he  too\-  in  all  the  strangenes-  ofLi-  room,  from  the  dirni 
:>  the  white  wash  bowl  and  pitcher,  with  tho  p 

ver  them,  and  he  rediy  felt  it  quite  awfu.  to  put  a  boy 
into  a  bedroom  with  such  articles  of  state  staring  him  in  tl:< 
v  himself  upon  his  trunk,  he  curled  his  leet  up  under  hii 
made  a  deliberate  ti;rvt.-y  •  f  his  new  territory,  at  last  dec; 
boy  could  sleep  in  such  a  room  if  he  h  .d  never  don-- 
which  conclusion  he  felt  belter  in  spiri\    "  Brushes  and  ]j>. 
lie  hud  none  :  but  a  p:.ir  of  wooden  pocket-comb-  put  his  hair  : 

i  ton-ummation  he  wondered  if  he  could  find  his 


TIT"  norsE  ST;HIXD  TTIT:  rnriAr;^.  67 

•way  down  such  a  very  crooked  staircase,  and  whether  he  should 
find  the  housekeeper's  daughter  still  twisting  herself  on  the  step — 
both  of  which  results  rewarding  his  efforts,  he  farther  congratulated 
himself  upon  having  passed  her  with  an  air  of  perfect  unconscious- 
ness of  her  presence  or  existence,  and  rejoined  his  uncle  in  the  par- 
lor. He  was  reading  the  newspaper  but  just  arrived,  and  did  not 
look  up  as  Lisle  came  and  took  a  seat  near  him. 

'•Humph — 'mules  steady' — intelligible  that,  when  a  nun  hasn't 
seen  the  market  price  in  two  months.  Supposo  I've  quite  a  crop,  or 
what  do  you  call  it,  on  hand  now." 

He  was  speaking  of  "the  mule  business,"  Lisle  felt  sure,  though  ;i 
"crop  "of  them  was  no  more  intelligible  tr>  him  than  the  who  e 
"business,"  but  as  these  comments  were  not  addressed  to  him,  he 
refrained  from  interruption.  Mr.  Fitzjames  folded  and  laid  up  the 
paper. 

"  Ha,  ready  for  supper  are  you  1     Is  your  room  comfortable  V 

"  Yes,  sir,  only  too  nice  find — grovm-up  like — I'm  sure  it's  very  nice." 

"  Nothing  sure  about  it  unless  Mrs.  Drew  looked  after  it  herself. 
When  one  has  to  trust  to  nigger  agency,  nothing  is  sure  but  aggra- 
vation. Every  arrangement  for  comfort  is  slept  out  of  memory.  Use 
the  bell  in  your  room  liberally,  for  the  house  is  full  of  servants;  and 
I  ?hall  delegate  you  nn  especial  as  soon  as  I  get  around  to  it.  I 
smell  hot  coffee  from  the  dining-room,  let's  see  to  it." 

Not  only  hot  csffee,  but  an  elegant  supper,  concluding  with  hot 
biscuits,  and  hefty,  awaited  them  ;  and  Mrs.  Drew  presided  over  the 
whole,  while  her  daughter  was  quite  invisible ;  and  Lisle's  content 
increased  accordingly.  The  neat  colored  boy  who  served  the  table, 
looked  bright,  and  displayed  his  shining  ivory  unceasingly,  and  the 
lamp  threw  its  cheerful  rays  over  the  glittering  service  in  a  most 
inspiring  fashion,  causing  Lisle  involuntarily  to  compare  all  this 
with  the  noisy  table  at  home,  at  which  the  children  often  quarreled 
and  the  baby  always  cried,  and  the  odor  of  the  guttering  tallow- 
candle  was  anything  but  appetizing  to  one  fastidious  by  nature  and 
ill-health,  as  he  was.  This  was  positive  luxury  in  comparison  ! 

"  A  miserable  night  this.  The  corn-fields  must  be  flooded  already. 
Don't  go  into  the  blue?,  Li«le,  things  will  brighten  when  this  ra:n 
stops,"  said  Mr.  Fitzjames,  shoving  back  his  chair,  and  observing 
that  Lisle  had  fallen  into  a  reverie 

"  Indeed,  sir,  I  haven't  thought  of  the  blues  !  I  was  just  thinking 
how  nice  nil  this  is.  I  don't  mind  the  rain  at  all." 

"  Indeed,  all  the  luckier  for  you.      Now,  sir,  as  I  suppose  you 


68  THE   HOUSE   BEIIIXD  THE   rOPLAKSk 

don't  smoke,  just  make  yourself  at  home  while  I  do  so.  The  sooner 
you  ivel  yourself  at  home  here,  the  better." 

Di  awing  a  chair  near  the  light,  Lisle  opened  his  still  unfinished 
volume  of  "  Nicholas  Nickleby,"  and  was  soon  lost  to  time  and  place, 
only  deliciously  enjoying-  the  perfect  quietude  to  which  he  had 
hitherto  been  a  stranger,  and  for  which  he  had  so  often  vainly 
longed. 

The  large  clock  in  the  adjoining  room  struck  ten,  sending  its 
voice  through  the  stillness  with  a  distinct  utterance,  that  roused 
him  through  all  his  fascination  over  the  life-like  pages  ;  and  looking 
around  at  his  uncle,  he  fmndhim  soundly  sleeping  in  his  arm-chair, 
with  spectacles  still  on  duty,  and  the  newspaper  spread  before  him 
ns  it  had  been  when  slumber  overtook  him.  The  sound  of  the 
clock,  and  the  malicious  striking  of  Lisle's  chair  against  the  wall, 
which  it  perpetrated  quite  on  its  own  responsibility,  awoke  him ; 
and  rubbing  his  eyes,  he  said, 

"I  suddenly  discovered  that  sleep  was  bearing  down  upon  me, 
but  you  seemed  so  much  interested  in  your  book,  I  didn't  like  to 
disturb  you  by  proposing  '  bed  time,'  and  so  I  kept  on  with  the 
paper,  which,  nevertheless,  I  see  came  over  bottom  end  up  at  the 
last  turn  I  gave  it.  Bolt  your  bed-room  door  when  you  go  to  bed." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  afraid  nights." 

"  Bolt  it,  all  the  same.  It's  a  plantation  custom  whose  reason  yon 
will  learn  soon  enough  without  being  told.  Good-night." 

Wondering  that  such  a  caution  should  be  given  him  in  so  quiet  a 
house,  he  neverthele?s  obeyed  it,  and  soon  ceased  to  think  of  any- 
thing connectedly,  wandering  pleasantly  into  the  kingdom  of 
dreams,  which,  once  having  ensnared  him,  transported  him  back  to 
the  mill-hou-e  and  renewed  the  old-time  persecutions  and  misery, 
under  which  he  remembered  as  a  dream  his  domestication  with  his 
uncle,  and  the  hope  of  better  things  it  hud  awakened  in  him,  mak- 
ing the  present  life  of  trouble. doubly  dark  by  contrast. 

The  sound  of  the  rising  bell  mingled  first  with  his  dreams,  and 
then  came  distinctly  out  of  them,  rousing  him  to  waking  conscious- 
n"ss,  and  as  he  bounded  out  of  bed  an  unspeakable  relief  possessed 
him.  Here  he  was,  after  all,  and  better  days  were  a  fixed  fact  in 
his  existence.  The  rain  had  quite  ceased,  and  the  sun  was  shining 
cheeiily  and  warm,  ns  if  it  had  taken  a  contract  on  time  of  drying 
the  pools  of  water  everywhere  smiling  complacently,  and  sparkling 
saucily  up  at  his  beaming  face. 

In  the  field,  all  afloat  from  the  many  days  rain,  a  herd  of  mulei 


THE   HOUSE    EEHIXD   THE   POPLAES.  69 

spattered  and  s'amped  about  fretfully,  laying  back  tluir  Luge  e-irs 
in  btrong  disapproval  of  the  stinging  flies,  whose  appetites  seemed 
enormously  sharpened  by  their  long  baths,  and  from  the  various 
gtades  and  sizes  thus  fighting  destiny  in  melancholy  companionship, 
Lisle  glt-amd  his  initiation  into  the  mysterious  "mule  business." 
They  werj  raised  for  the  market,  and  this  was  why  his  uncle  had 
expressed  his  contempt  for  their  being  "  steady."  It  was  a  very 
timple  explanation  of  what  had  been  so  long  a  mystery,  and  he  re- 
solved to  enlighten  Eddy  at  once. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  breakfast  room  yet,  except  Mrs.  Drew, 
who  was  attending  to  the  laying  of  the  table ;  and  strolling  out  upon 
the  s:de  gallery,  he  watched  a  flock  of  birds  which  twittered  and 
chirruped  around  the  yard,  evidently  complaining  that  their  break- 
i-:st  w: 'S  all  soaked,  and  not  a  bug  to  be  seen.  A  plate  of  bread  sat 
upon  the  breakfast  table,  Lisle  remembered  ;  and  going  back  for  a 
piece,  he  tossed  it  in  crumbs  among  the  hungry  brood. 

Unaffrighted  at  his  presence,  they  gathered  them  with  many  chir- 
ruping thanks.  They  were  in  the  height  of  their  enjoyment,  when, 
with  a  sudden  spring,  a  grey  cat,  lurking  unseen  around  the  corner, 
pounced  upon  a  lovely  sparrow  whose  courage  in  never  fleeing  from 
the  descending  crumbs  had  rendered  him  an  especial  favorite  with 
Lisle,  and  with  a  cry  of  pain  and  terror  it  was  borne  off  as  lawful 
prize,  while  its  comrades  flew  frightened  away. 

With  an  expression  of  rage  and  sorrow,  Lisle  leaped  the  railing 
and  gave  chase  to  the  cat,  who,  with  her  fluttering  prey,  had  re- 
treated to  the  kitchen,  where,  totally  unapprehensive  of  any  im- 
pending vengeance,  she  was  surpiised  by  a  vigorous  kick  which 
doubled  her  up  with  a  yell  of  disapprobation,  after  which  she  made 
the  quickest  cat  time  around  the  corner.  The  little  bird  lay  in  its 
last  death  flutter  on  the  kitchen  floor,  and  Lisle  raised  it  pityingly, 
while  a  red  drop  trickled  over  its  delicately  tinted  breast. 

"  Lawsee,  Master  Sterling;  what  a  chicken  heart  you's  got  under 
your  han'some  face  ! "  grinned  the  cook,  raising  her  reeking  face 
over  the  gridiron. 

1  I'm  not  chicken-hearted  at  all,  and  I  want  that  cat  killed  to-day ! 
Do  you  hear  that  ?  " 

"  Lawsee,  sir,  yes,  but  dat  ar  cat  belong  to  Miss  Melissa,  an'  she 
set  a  heap  by  him.  No  nigga  on  de  place  dare  to  kill  he.  Master 
Lisle, — taint  right,  no  way,  to  kill  cats  !  " 

"  See  here  :  do  you  know  the  look  of  a  two  shilling  piece  ?" 

"  A  what,  sir  ? " 


70  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

"  A  two  shilling  piece,"  and  lie  hold  up  a  quarter  dollar. 

"  Bl  ss  ye, — ye  means  a  two  bi's  !     Yes,  I  knows  him." 

"  Well  take  it,  and  if  Melissa's  ait  don't  come  in  sight  again,  re- 
colhct  it's  probably  run  away.'' 

"  I  undei  stand?,  young  masser,  and  jes  you  mind,  if  de  cat  neber 
come  round  no  more,  old  Phillis  neber  done  heerd  n tiffin  bout  her  at 
nil, — yah,  yah." 

He  met  Melissa  in  the  back  hall  as  he  went  in.  and  thinking  she 
..  might  like  the  bird,  he  handed  it  to  her,  saving, 

"Keep  it  if  you  think  it  pretty,  and  I'll  show  you  how  to  stuff  him 
so  he'll  look  almost  alive.  He's  a  pretty  fellow." 

'•  I  knows  how  to  stuff  him  without  none  of  your  showing,''  she 
replied,  grinning;  ami  darting  to  the  door,  she  called,  "here,  pu  s. 
puss,"  and,  before  he  had  time  to  stop  her,  she  had  tossed  the  pretty 
creature  to  the  cat  who  came  round  the  corner  mewing  responeively. 

"  1  stuffi  'cm  into  the  cat,  I  does,"  the  said,  putting  her  arms  akimbo 
and  spreading  her  hands  over  her  hips  as  she  wa'ched  the  result, 
and  heard  its  little  frame  crr.ck  under  the  old  cat's  cruel  t-'Ctli. 

"What  an  angel  you  are,  and  no  mistake  !  v  said  Lisle  ironically. 

"Lord,  there  h'au't  no  good  along  a  dead  truck  like  that!     I 
h'an't  no  while-faced  picaninny,  I  h'an't !  Lord,  I  brings  that  ere  cat 
all  the  nests  o'  little  young  birds  I  finds      She -likes  Vin  be-t  ; 
they's  got  feathers  on  'em,  the  y  makes  her  breath  sweet.     She  sleeps 
with  me  in  the  bed  every  night,  puss  does." 

"  A.  pretty  pair  of  you !  I  don't  envy  either  of  you  your  company," 
and  turning  scornfully,  he  obeyed  the  summons  of  the  breakfast 
bell. 

Eeassured  that  he  had  at  last  met  one  girl  who  would  neither 
pity  nor  protect  him,  nor  anything  else,  he  was  not  well  pleased  with 
his  rara  avis.  His  seriousness  was  not  observed,  however,  as  Mrs. 
Drew  herself  seemed  quite  in  a  flutter  this  morning,  and  after  various 
hesitating  commencements,  at  last  summoned  cour  .ge  and  be 
into  the  subject  which  so  disquieted  her. 

';  I've  something  on  my  mind  this  day,  Mr.  Fitzjames,  as  is  alto- 
gether upsetting  to  me,  ;.nd  dietful  oncxpccted,  which  Lord  knows  ! 
and  I  don't  know  whethir  or  no  you'll  take  kindly  to  it." 

"  Ah !  then  it  concerns  me,  I  suppose." 

"Which  it  does  after  a  fashion,  being  as  this  Louse  is  yours,  sir, 
jind  not  mine.  I  got  a  letter  fiom  my  mother  this  morning,  sir, 
which  it  was  belated  in  not  getting  here  two  days  ago,  and  the  news 
which  aie  in  it  are  quite  upsetting  to  me,  as  I  said  before." 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   TiiE   TOPLAKS.  71 

"Well?"  said  Mr.  Fitzjames  inquiringly,  as  she  had  stopped 
again. 

"  If  it  please  you,  tir, — and  for  that  matter  if  it  don't,"  she  added 
after  an  instant's  deliberation,  "  rny  sister,  which  lived  out  West,  ha= 
just  gone  home  with  fever,  which,  it  was  typhoid,  leaving  one  child 
us  is  an  orfing ;  and  being  as  there's  no  more  relations  left  as  belongs 
to  it,  more  than  me,  and  being  as  ils  grandmother,  which  is  nay  own. 
Lies  e  i  parent,  is  enable  to  do  for  it,  as  i-he's  a  tight  squeak  to  do 
fur  herself,  she's  a  bringing  of  it  to  me,  sir,  winch  is  the  truth." 

"Why  isn't  it  taken  home  with  its  mother,  if  she  is  able  to  hire  it 
nursed  there.  It  need  not  be  exposed  in  any  way  to  the  di-ea^e." 

"Which  I  was  not  speaking  of  any  mort.d  home,  Mr.  Fitzj'-iines, 
but  of  the  home  beyond." 
"  Oh,  she  is  dead  ?     Well "— 

"  Which  being  as  I'm  to  bring  the  child  into  your  house,  if  at  all, 
and  you  mightn't  hanker  after  any  more  children  in  it,  sir,  perhaps 
you'd  wish  me  to  leave."  .  • 

"  Not  to  be  thought  of  for  a  moment,  Mrs.  Drew!  I  suppose  you 
can  keep  it  in  the  far  end  of  the  house  if  it's  likely  to  howl  all  night 
and  cut  teeth  all  day  ?'' 

"  WFdch  it.  won't,  tir,  as,  being  as  its  eleven  year  and  more,  it's  likely 
as  ifs  teeth  is  all  over  and  done  with." 

"Well,  then  put  it  to  sleep  with  Melissa,  in  the  enel  room,  and  say 
no  more  about  it." 

"But,  sir,  which  it  don't  seem  altogether  proper,  being  o'  the  age 
it  is  "— 

"  Oh,  it's  a  boy  is  it !" 

"Yes,  sir,  no  doubt  of  it,  ns  he's  gone  eleven,"  replied  Mrs.  Drew, 
a  little  assertively  •  s  if  this  were  the  first  time  any  one  had  presumed 
to  question  it,  and  quite  unobserving  the  fact  that  "ii"  gave  no  clue 
to  sex. 

"  Oh,  bolher  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Fitzjames  in  a  tone  of  annoyance, 
"stow  him  away  as  you  best  can  so  that  he  won't  be  a  nuisance — 
which,  if  he  is  an  eleven  year  old  boy,  I  don't  see  how  it  is  to  be  ac- 
complished," he  added  sotto  voce  as  he  left  the  room. 

The  wet  ground  without  confined  Mr.  Fitzjames  and  Lisle  to  th:; 
house  that  day,  so  that  they  witnessed  the  arrival  of  the  old  la  ,y 
and  her  grandson,  which  took  place  towards  noon.  Lisle  could  noi 
altogether  conceal  a  start  of  surprise  and  dislike  as  he  thought  th« 
t\vo  looked  familiar  to  him,  and  a  second  glance  settkd  the  convic- 
tion, which  he  expressed  to  his  uncle. 


72  THE  noiV'E  BEUI.VD  THE  rorLAUs. 

"It's  tint  aw  Ail,  round-eye  1,  fat  boy  !" 

"  Wliy,  so  it  in!  A  graceless  young  cub.  Whew  !  this  is  worse 
tiian  I  thought!" 

In  fact  no  boy  could  have  been  more  unwelcome  to  both  uncle  and 
nephew,  and  Lisle's  fists  clenched  themselves  involuntarily  inside 
Iris  pockets,  as  he  watched  the  fat  legs  clambering  down  the.  wheel, 
guiltless  of  all  knowledge  that  there  were  steps  by  which  to  descend. 
In  his  dirty  hand  was  a  large  piece  of  something  to  eat,  which  he 
socnied  to  have  divided  impartially  between  his  mouth,  and  his  cars, 
i. .wards  which  prominent  organs  a  discolored,  lumpy  streak  extend- 
ed. Mis.  Drew  came  o\it  to  meet  them  with  more  cordiality  than 
Li^le  had  anticipated  from  the  morning's  conversation,  and  Melis-a 
blared  irom  the  step,  vainly  striving  to  make  her  dress-waist  stay 
twisted  to  the  right,  while  it  as  perversely  insisted  upon  "dressing 

•'  Melis*y,"  called  her  mother,  "  let  alone  twisting  of  yourself  and 
poking  all  the  whalebones  through — which  whalebones  cuts  dresses 
all  out — and  come  and  kiss  your  relations.  Ilere  Ls  your  cousin  Billy 
which  you've  never  seen,  and  you  nothing  to  say  to  him  but  a  twist- 
ing yourself !  That's  your  cousin  Melissy,  Billy.  Won't  you  let  her 
kiss  your" 

"  Lord,  ma,"  grinned  the  young  lady, "  I  don't  see  no  place  to  ki-s, 
unless  its  his  weskit.  He's  smutticr'n  a  hog,  he  is  1" 

'•I  don't  care  if  I  be;  I  shan't  clean  myself  till  I'm  done  my  sweet- 
c.ike,  nor  then  nither,  for  you,"  retorted  the  fat  boy,  reburying  his 
lace;  in  the  cake,  and  smacking  his  lips  audibly. 

"  Laws,''  snickered  Melissa  again.  "What  a  little  hog  it  is,  and 
so  mannerly !" 

Billy  drew  suddenly  near,  and  for  all  reply  plunged  an  avenging 
fist  into  the  pit  of  her  unsuspecting  stomach,  which  caused  her  to 
double  herself  suggestively  and  retreat,  while,  whiping  his  fingers 
upon  his  pantaloons  aiter  the  blow,  and  snuffing  as  usual,  he  cram- 
med another  mouthful  into  his  puffy  face. 

Lisle  looked  on  through  the  window,  with  a  muttered  "dog  eat 
dog,"  and  Mr.  Fitzjames  laughed,  "  An  amiable  pair,  truly!  No,  I 
don't  •  hanker  after  any  more '  in  the  house,  as  Mrs.  Drew  suggested.'' 

For  a  few  days  no  encounter  took  place  between  Lisle  and  the  fit 
boy ;  for,  with  ihe  over-strained  regime  usual  among  females  who  re- 
solve to  bring  up  a  model  boy,  Mrs.  Drew  never  suffered  him  from 
hur  sight,  but  kept  him  sewing  piece-  for  a  bed-quilt,  this  having 
been  the  employment  of  her  own  juvenile  hours,  and  having,  as  she 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  73 

remarked  more  than  once,  "  made  an  industrious,  excellent  woman 
of  her."  Whether  or  not  Billy  took  kindly  to  his  needle,  Lisle  had 
not  yet  seen  him  out  of  its  company  and  that  of  the  superintending 
Mrs.  Drew,  and  began  to  hope  he  never  should.  But  the  old  lady 
took  her  departure  one  day,  and  Mrs.  Drew  having  driven  her  out 
to  the  city,  Billy  escaped  from  thraldom. 

Lisle  was  walking  in  the  garden  when  he  first  saw  Billy  approach- 
ing in  the  same  path,  and  scorning  any  appearance  of  intentional 
avoidance,  he  proceeded,  and  they  met  lace  to  face. 

"  So,"  exclaimed  Billy,  "you're  the  chicken-hearted  young  chap 
Melitia  tells  so  much  about,  are  you  ?  Thought  I  knowd  you,  'tother 
day,  when  I  see  you  strutting  out  here  by  yerself.  Ef  it  wasn't  that 
you're  the  master's  nevvy  I'd  ker-wallop  you  till  you'd  quit  lording 
it  around  here !  I  an't  forgot,  I  an't,  how  you  jabbed  me  with  your 
fork  at  that  ere  grub-shop  by  the  railroad,  coming  down  here !  but 
ns  gran'mam  says,  if  I  get  turned  out  o'  here  I'll  have  to  go  to  the 
alms-house,  do  you  say  '  friends,'  or  'not  friends  ?'  Jes  say  which.'1 

"You'd  better  go  back  to  your  patch-work.  I  don't  make  friends 
with  such  boys  as  you.  Get  out  of  the  path.'' 

"Ef  I  han't  as  good  as  you  be,  what  made  you  jab  your  fork  into 
me !  If  you  didn't  mean  to  make  friends  with  me,  you  needn't  a  be- 
gun the  acquaintance.  Nobody  axed  you  to." 

"  I  want  to  go  past ;  will  you  get  out  of  the  path  ?" 

"  No,  I  won't,  as  long  as  I've  got  fitts  as  will  help  me  stay  in  it, 
alms-house  or  no  ^vims-house.  Come,  now  !" 

"  Then  I'll  set  you  the  example  of  a  gentleman,"  said  Lisle  bowing 
composedly  and  stepping  one  side. 

"  And  you  han't  going  to  fight  for  it  ?''  asked  Billy  wonderingly. 

"Not  with  a  little  animal  like  you.  I  don't  fight  with  any  but 
my  equals,"  r.nd  he  walked  away  while  the  fat  boy  looked  after  him 
with  eyes  rounder  than  ever. 

"  Ki  yi,"  shouted  Meiissa  from  the  security  of  an  upper  window, 
"  you  clone  cotched  it  that  time,  smart  as  you  think  yourself!  Lord, 
don't  ye  look  wamble  cropped !" 

Billy  sauntered  off,  feeling  that  he  -was  on  strange  ground  with  a 
boy  who  despised  him  too  much  to  fight  with  him  for  even  his  rights, 
and  soon  was  still  farther  cowed  by  coining  full  upon  Mr.  Fitzjames, 
wlio,  unseen  by  both  boys,  had  witnessed  their  encounter.  He  laid 
a  heavy  hand  upon  Billy's  shoulder,  and  said  sternly, 

"  Now,  see  here,  youngster,  just  understand,  once  for  all,  that  I'll 
have  none  of  your  bullying  here.  When  you  meet  Master  Sterling, 


74  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.      . 

-*"     ' 

no  matter  where,  nor  who  else  sees  you, — raise  your  hat  to  him,  and 
treat  him  as  a  young  gentleman  and  my  nephew  should  be  treated. 
Don't  you  let  me  hear  of  your  forcing  yourself  upon  him  again  in 
this  manner,  or  I'll  take  you  in  hand,  sir." 

Billy  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his  dirty  fists,  and  began  to  whimper, 
and  Melissa,  who  had  listened  to  every  word,  suddenly  conceived 
an  immense  respect  for  Master  Lisle,  whom  Mr.  Fitzjarnes  must  in- 
tend should  become  his  heir,  or  he  never  would  treat  him  in  this 
Avay ;  and  forthwith  she  unplaited  what  remained  of  the  frowzed  out 
braids  of  her  towey  hair,  bringing  some  lard  from  the  kitchen,  to 
aid  the  smoothing  process,  and  excepting  two  snarls  behind  her  ears, 
which  wouldn't  comb  out,  the  whole  was  more  neatly  braided,  and 
put  dangling  down  her  back  afresh  :  and  she  twisted  her  outer  girl 
before  the  glass,  for  a  full  half  hour,  in  a  last  tearful  effort  to  come 
straight,  after  which  she  sought  many  expedients  to  keep  as  much 
In  his  sight  as  possible. 

Had  Lisle  dreamed  himself  the  object  at  which  all  this  care  was 
aimed,  it  is  probable  that  some  overt  act  of  contempt  would  have 
aroused  her  enmity  at  once ;  but  he  really  thought  nothing  of  it, 
nor  ever  seemed  to  notice  her,  however  closely  he  was  sometimes 
compelled  to  pass  by  her,  and  since  the  bird-stuffing  scene,  he  had 
never  once  spoken  to  her.  Strange  as  it  was,  this  deportment  only 
had  raised  him  in  her  estimation,  and  though  she  shrewdly  sus- 
pected that  he  might  explain  the  sudden  disappearance  of  her  cat, 
and  felt  that  her  studies  in  the  science  of  ornithology  were  hence- 
forth a  dead  letter,  she  held  her  peace  under  it,  and  only  queried 
how  she  could  conquer  the  contempt  he  had  ever  since  exhibited 
towards  her. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLABS.  75 


CHAPTER  Viil. 

IN  due  time,  the  tutor  spoken  of  by  Mr.  Fitzjames,  arrived ;  a 
plausible,  self-possessed,  rather  too  handsome  young  gentleman, 
Lisle  thought ;  but  personal  comeliness  is  a  fault  easily  overlooked, 
circumstances  being  not  extremely  unpropitious ;  and  Louis  Hartley 
soon  quite  captivated  the  hearts  of  the  household.  Indeed  it 
proved  that  he  was  far  advanced  in  its  good  graces  long  before  thus 
having  domesticated  himself  as  tutor  in  it,  and  Mrs.  Drew  improv.ed 
the  earliest  occasion  to  put  Lisle  era  fait  in  his  history. 

"It  mayn't  be  just  proper  that  I  should  give  you  all  the  facts  in 
the  case,"  said  that  conscientious,  but  rather  gossiping  lady,  "  but' 
being  as  you  are  Mr.  Fitzjames'  blood  relation,  which  Mr.  Louis  is 
not,  being  as  he  had  a  narrow  escape  of  it,  I  don't  see  any  harm  in 
it,  but  to  the  contrm'ry.  Which,  then,  Mr.  Louis  being  a  son  of  a 
before-time  sweetheart  of  your  uncle,  and  so  being  in  a  way  your 
own  cousin,  which  he  might  easily  have  been,  he  oughtn't  to  be 
strange  like  to  you,  ought  he  now  ?" 

"I  really  don't  understand,  Mrs.  Dre^v." 

"  Which  I'm  going  on  to  tell  you,  my  dear,  as  Mr.  Louis  is  tho 
oldest  son  of  a  lady  as  your  uncle  would  surely  hare  married  lawful, 
— yes,  he'd  a  dons  it  lawful  and  honorable — if  circumstances  hadn't 
gone  the  wrong  way,  as  they  always  does  in  matermonial  cases. 
Which  your  uncle  at  that  time  being  poor  but  gentlemanly,  which 
gentlemanly  he  now  is,  but  as  to  being  poor  is  quite  to  the  contrai- 
ry-wise,  it  wasn't  to  bo  thought  of  by  her  parents ;  the  more  so 
which  she  being  at  that  time  an  engaged  person, — which'his  name 
was,  and  is,  Hartley,  as  is  his  son's  likewise, — it  seemed  not  right 
she  should  recall  her  jrows  and  promises,  but  Lord,  what  is  a 
wornaa's  vows  and  promises  ?  and  so  Miss  Mary  thought,  which  her 
parents  thought,  Mr.  Hartley  was  well  to  do,  and  probably  a  reckon- 
ing on  her,  and  so  the  was  obedient  to  them  and  married  him, 
though  it  was  no  secret  as  she  loved  your  uncle  best,  which  well  lie 
knowed  it,  poor  man !  Your  uncle  danced  at  the  wedding,  and 


76  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

kissed  the  bride,  which  he  had  often  kissed  before,  and  she  not  un- 
willing, but  to  the  contrairy,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hartley  was  reckoned 
a  splendid  pair  of  matermonials  by  them  as  looked  only  at  the  out- 
side.. But  ill  luck  being  his  fortune,  a  year  or  two  afterwards, 
which  some  of  his  steamers  got  snagged  in  the  river,  and  one  waa 
a-burned,  Mr.  Hartley  took  poor,  and  what  with  children  coming  on 
huii  thick  and  plenty,  and  Mrs.  Hartley  being  amost  always  com- 
plaining, though  she  never  murmured,  poor  dear,  the  property  wentr 
to  the  dogs,  and  it's  well  beknowst  as  they  had  right  smart  help 
from  your  uncle,  first  and  last ;  which  he  had  grown  rich  as  they 
grew  poor,  and  he  went  to  her  funeral  at  last  as  second  mourner, 
which  he  ought  to  have  beenj|  first  by  good  rights." 

"  But  if  the  lady  was  engaged  before  she  knew  my  uncle  ?"  sug- 
gested Lisle  inquiringly. 

"  Which  as  I  said  before,  what's  a  woman's  vows  and  promises, 
matermonially  speaking  1  Which  the  poor  dears  themselves  never 
considers  in  the  least  binding  on  'em  when  they've  changed  their 
minds  for  another,  thank  God  !  Howsoever,  Mrs.  Hartley  died,  and 
dead  she  is  ;  and  your  uncle,  of  the  goodness  which  is  in  him,  sent 
Master  Louis,  as  is  the  oldest  chilil — and  which  being  born  the  first 
year  less  two  months,  is  in  a  manner  related  to  him  more  than  them 
as  came  after,  and  when  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  thus  it  was 
and  thus  it  was  to  be — to  school  for  a  right  smart  o'  time,  and  then 
to  college,  '  to  help  him  to  make  his  way  in  life,'  which  he  said,  and 
being  as  Mr.  Louis  hankers  after  tutoring,  tutor  he  is,  and  what  more 
nateral  than  to  Mr.  Fitzj;imes  own  nevvy  ?" 

"I  wonder  my  uncle  does  not  adopt  him,  instead." 

"  Which  he  thinks  it  better  the  young  gentleman  should  depend 
upon  himself  a  little,  being  as  them  as  lives  on  expectations  of  what 
is  coming  to  them,  is  generally  most  ongrateful,  if  not  quite  ruinated, 
but  who  knows  how  much  he'll  have  left  to  him,  nevertheless  ? 
Being,  too,  as  Mr.  Fit/james  now  has  blood  relations — which  he 
might  a  had  all  this  time  unbeknowst  to  me,  dear  knows — it  an't 
just  likely  he'll  leave  Mr.  Louis  all  I  once  expected  would  go  to  him. 
I've  my  own  ideas,  of  late ;  but  it  an't  my  place  to  mention  "em, 
leastways  he  mightn't  like  it  of  me,  which  maybe  I've  said  too  mucli 
already,  though  I  only  know  what  I  know,  and  not  along  of  him. 
Leastways  I  wouldn't  like  which  he  should  know  it,  sir." 

"I  shan't  allude  to  it,  of  course;  but  I  don't  want  to  hear  anything 
he  wouldn't  like  me  to  know." 

"  Laws,  but  you're  different  from  your  neighbors,  then !     IIowso- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  17 

evt  r,  ns  you  are  but  young  now,  it's  likely  you'll  think  quite  to  the 
contrau-j  as  you  grow  up.  Most  people  sets  great  store  by  all  th(  y 
learns  as  them  as  it  concerns  most  wishes  they  shouldn't  ever  sus- 
pect, and  I've  known  people  which  was  most  onbearable  in  all  other 
ways  you  could  mention,  hold  a  high  place  in  society  as  wouldn't 
in  no  other  way  seera  to  notice  'em,  only  tor  the  things  they  knew 
as  they  had  no  business  to  know.  Howsoever,  this  as  I've  told  you 
about  your  uncle  is  in  no  way  injuresoine  to  him,  but  on  the  coutrairy 
quite  to  his  credit,  and  it's  much  to  be  hoped  as  Mr.  Louis  will  make 
out  good  in  the  world,  which  some  way  tutoring  doesn't  come  up 
to  Mr.  Fitzjamcs'  expectations  of  him,  and  no  wonder!" 

Mrs.  Drew  breathed  a  long  sigh  and  looked  absently  out  the  win- 
dow, and  concluding  that  her  narrative  was  now  complete,  Lisle  left 
her.  rilled  with  wonder  that  his  uncle  should  have  lived  this  roman- 
tic episode,  and  shrewdly  conjecturing  that  it  accounted  for  his  re- 
maining a  bachelor  all  these  years.  If  he  did  not  accept  the  laws 
of  relationship  quite  as  liberally  as  Mrs.  Drew,  he  certainly  did  feel 
a  more  genial,  hearty  liking  for  his  tutor,  since  learning  how  especial 
an  object  of  his  uncle's  care  he  had  always  been,  and  resolutely  closed 
his  eyes  to  any  short-comings  or  imperfections  in  that  young  gen- 
tleman's character,  loth  as  he  had  been  sometimes  to  f'aucy  that  some 
such  existed.  Mr.  Louis  might  have  his  own  reasons  for  an  occa- 
sional moodiness  and  seeming  lack  of  candor;  doubtless  he  had,  thus 
dependent  upon  another's  generosity  for  even  the  means  of  earning 
his  livelihood ;  and  Lisle  felt  that  it  was  not  for  him  to  comment 
even  mentally  upon  it,  but  rather  to  become  his  friend  as  well  as 
pupiL 

80  the  first  year  passed  very  pleasantly,  during  which  Lisle  made 
rapid  strides  in  the  field  of  knowledge,  and  became  more  than  ever 
his  uncle's  friend  and  companion.  Lisle  could  not  fail  to  see  that 
young  Hartley  in  many  ways  pained  and  disappointed  his  benefac- 
tor, and  he  was  more  pained  than  pleased  tkat  he  himself  was  often 
turned  to  as  one  who  in  some  way  compensated  for  that  other's  de- 
ficiencies. Not  that  Hartley  was  markedly  deficient  in  any  overt  way, 
nor  openly  at  discord  with  anything  around  him,  but  a  certain  un- 
definable  something  wanting  in  his  character,  for  which  Mr.  Fitz- 
james  vainly  hoped  and  waited,  brought  a  shadow  to  his  brow 
which  was  echoed  in  an  audible  sigh,  when,  at  the  close  of  this  year 
Hartley  suddenly  departed  without  having  asked  leave  or  even  ex- 
pressed the  intention,  and  without  any  explanation  save  what  was 
contained  in  a  brief  note  left  for  Mr.  Fitzjames,  in  which  he  stated 


78  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLAitS. 

that  a  sudden  emergency  called  him.  Welcome  as  he  was  to  any 
number  of  holidays  lor  which  he  might  choose  to  ask,  it  was  evident 
that  he  had  thus  claimed  one  to  avoid  any  possible  questions  as  to 
its  cause,  and  while  Mr.  Fitzjanies  would  have  asked  none  had  tho 
opportunity  been  offered  him,  he  «ould  not  refrain  from  wondering 
at  the  reason  for  all  this  strategy.  What  was  the  secret  thus  im- 
pelling the  child  of  his  pattni-il  care  to  distrust  him  ?  What  object 
could  there  be  in  the  life  of  the  boy  he  had  reared  almost  as  his  own 
son,  which  he  would  not  cheerfully  advance  by  every  means  wi;hin 
Ms  power  ? 

The  old  gentleman  was  more  grieved  than  offended ;  but  with  a 
gentlemanly  tolerance  rare  in  one  of  his  age,  he  received  young 
Hartley  upon  his  return  as  though  he  had  departed  with  a  duo  ob- 
servance of  all  forms  and  courtesies,  and  waited  patiently  for  tho 
time  when  the  confidence  he  longed  for  might  be  voluntarily  given 
him.  However,  two  years  more,  which  passed  quickly  away,  brought 
neither  this  confidence,  nor  a  repetition  of  the  offence  which  had 
caused  Mr.  Fitzjames  so  much  uneasiness,  and,  his  own  trust  in 
Hartley  thus  restored,  he  concluded  this  one  escapade  was  doubtlessly 
connected  with  the  finale  of  sonic  college  embarrassment,  probably 
a  pecuniary  one,  and  satisfied  that  if  he  had  been  so  imprudent  as 
to  incur  debts,  he  had  improved  the  first  legitimate  opportunity  to 
discharge  them,  Mr.  Fitzj;imes  made  no  comments  which  might  em- 
barrass him,  but  meantime  increased  his  salary  to  one  which  ho 
thought  commensurate  with  any  possible  arrears.  Determined  to  en- 
courage no  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  with  Hartley,  he  easily  persuaded 
himself  that  there  existed  no  real  cause  for  aBy,and  silently  rebuked 
his  yearning  for  a  more  complete  interchange  of  affection  as  the  usual 
tyranny  of  the  aged  toward  the  young.  Even  now  he  was  scarcely 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  few  were  those  among  Mr.  Fitzjames' 
acquaintances  who  were  as  irreproachably  sedate  and  reliable.  That 
he  was  so  quiet  beyond  his  years,  had  doubtless  been  the  very  rea- 
son his  benefactor  had  expected  too  much  of  him,  and  he  generously 
determined  he  would  do  so  no  more. 


Four  years  passed  over  Lisle's  head,  and  he  was  now  nearly  nine- 
teen years  of  age.  No  pains  had  been  spared  by  his  uncle  to  improve 
him  both  physically  and  mentally,  and  he  felt  well  repaid  as  he  noted 
the  result.  The  sickly,  sensitive  boy  had  given  place  to  the  spirited, 
energetic,  self-possessed  youth  whose  very  features  had  changed  in 
unison,  and  if  not  positively  handsome,  he  possessed  a  fine,  manly 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  7.9 

figure,  and  a  face  whose  intelligence  and  dignity  of  expression  amply 
compensated  for  ;my  irregularity  of  outline.  Enough  of  his  natural 
reserve  still  clung  to  him  to  render  him  usually  silent  unless  ex- 
pressly drawn  into  conversation,  and  a  tinge  of  the  misanthropy 
inseparable  from  such  a  life  as  his,  with  its  ever  present  shadow  cloud- 
ing his  heart,  often  colored  his  remarks  even  when  most  genial. 

Occasional  letters  from  Mrs.  Sterling  to  her  brother,  hnd  duly 
inquired  after  the  welfare  of  her  "  little  boy,"  but  neither  of  them 
had  deemed  it  necessary  to  inform  her  that  he  was  a  Tittle  boy  no 
more,  and  nothing  had  ever  been  said  relative  to  his  return  to  the 
paternal  roof.  Mr.  Fitzjames  was  a#  heartily  glad  of  this  as  wan 
Lisle  himself,  since  it  avoided  the  necessity  for  the  one  to  prefer  any 
request  which  might  possibly  be  denied  in  pure  malice,  and  the 
other  from  an  open  revolt  against  a  government  to  which  he  had 
vowed  never  more  to  yield  allegiance. 

Lisle  was  now  at  an  age  when  his  business  occupation  should  be 
decided  upon,  and  his  uncte  often  essayed  to  surprise  him  into  some 
expressed  predilection  upon  which  he  might  found  His  preparations'. 
But  one  thought  kept  him  mute.  The  business  he  would  have 
chosen,  required  capital,  and  how  could  he  thus  ask  more  where  to 
much  had  already  been  done  for  him !  It  was  but  slightly  improv- 
ing upon  it  to  request  as  a  loan,  that  which,  should  he  be  unsuccess- 
ful, as  many  an  earnest  struggler  always  has  been,  he  could  not  re- 

pay- 

Still,  the  impatience  he  felt  to  be  doing  something  for  himself, 
left  no  course  open  but  one  of  plain  speaking,  and  he  frankly  ex- 
plained his  difficulty.  The  old  gentleman  smiled  with  pride  and 
satisfaction. 

"  I  knew  that  something  of  this  kind  troubled  you,  and  it  is  just 
what  I  should  expect  from  your  head  and  your  heart,  but  as  it  seems 
you  haven't  a  talent  for  wood-cutting,  black-smithing,  or  any  of  those 
non-capital  requiring  professions,  we  must  just  choose  another.  I 
didn't  bring  you  up  to  b&come  that  polite  vagabond,  a  gentleman, 
with  no  business  calling,  and  if  you  wont  preach,  or  phi/sic,  I  can't 
hi  any  way  be  disappointed  in  you.  Disputatious  vagabonds  are  as 
bad  as  idle  ones,  if  not  worse,  and  preachers  and  physic  givers  aro 
death  upon  all  creeds  but  their  own.  I've  a  mind  to  open  a  com- 
mission house  in  the  city,  and  make  you  and  Hartley  my  partners; 
I  to  advance  the  necessary  capital,  and  you  to  do  the  work.  I  was 
speaking  with  him  about  it  only  the  other  day." 

"A  mode  of  doing  business  which  reminds  inc  howlused  to  pocket 


80  Tllfi   HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLARS. 

my  chestnut  winnings  '  when  I  was  young,' ''  laughed  Lisle.  "  Ed  ly 
used  to  represent  the  whole  stock  in  trade,  and  I  borrowed  a  certain, 
number  of  him  with  which  to  commence  operations,  a  t-iege  of '  odd 
and  even '  usually  yielding  me  the  whole,  out  of  which  I  conscien- 
tiously repaid  him  the  loan." 

"  Why,  man  alive,  I  don't  propose  to  let  you  fleece  me  in  that  stylo, 
you  know !  Our  joint  operations  are  to  be  directed  towards  out- 
siders. This  is  a  game  of '  odd  and  even '  in  which  notding  is  to  bo 
tweaked  out  of  me,  and  of  course  I  expect  to  get  my  capital  back,  or 
I  shouldn't  advance  it,  would  I  ?" 

Lisle  thought  this  a  very  doubtful  proposition ;  but  Mr.  Fitzjames 
preferred  basing  all  his  pecuniary  kindnesses  upon  an  appai  ently 
selfish  object,  and  shunned  a  "  thank  you  "  in  every  possible  man- 
ner, thinking  it,  in  all  sincerity,  an  unjust  penalty  for  a  kindness 
conferred  in  pure  benevolence.  So  the  co-partnership  was  looked 
upon  as  a  settled  fact,  and  the  household  adjourned  to  a  home  in 
the  city,  over  which  Mrs.  Drew  presided  as  an  indispensable  adjunct, 
and  Melissa  and  the  lazy,  overgrown  Billy,  were  tolerated  as  nece  - 
sary  evils.  In  vain  had  the  fat  boy  been  variously  located,  and,  Mr. 
Fitzjarnes  hoped,  disposed  of,  his  chief  accomplishment,  an  improved 
talent  for  getting  into  rows,  kept  him  ever  vibrating  from  place  to 
place,  diversified  only  by  the  calaboose ;  till  concluding  that  hia 
presence  was  preferable  to  the  continual  complaints  of  his  employ- 
ers, Mr.  Fitzjarnes  resigned  himself  to  his  domiciling  under  his  roof, 
and  had  no  expectation  of  ever  relieving  himself  of  him  except  by 
•willing  and  bequeathing  him  with  the  estate. 

The  busy  life  which  now  surrounded  them,  had  for  the  two  young 
gentleman  an  irresistible  charm ;  and  quite  giving  up  the  quietude 
and  early  hours  so  prized  by  most  elderly  gentlemen,  Mr.  Fitzjames 
accompanied  them  among  the  gay  scenes  by  which  they  were  so 
fascinated,  introducing  them  to  his  large  circle  of  acquaintance-, 
among  whom  they  soon  became  popular,  not  less  upon  their  own 
individual  merits  than  the  prestige  they  enjoyed  as  the  probable  heirs 
of  a  handsome  fortune. 

"Well  had  it  been  had  this  gloss  never  worn  off  the  fair  f;ice  of  so- 
ciety !  But  familiarity  with  it,  in  time  taught  Lisle,  especially,  how 
little  sincerity  lay  beneath,  and  embittered  by  his  own  self-kuov,  1- 
edge,  and  the  thought  how  differently  this  same  t-uiiling  society 
would  treat  him  were  it  aware  of  all  he  knew  of  hiin.-e.f,  the  vein  ot 
misanthropy  underlying  his  character  rose  ofteuer  to  the  sur£icx', 
aud  his  uncle  observed,  with  pain,  that  he  always  seemed  he:.. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  roriJVRS.  81 

for  some  hidden  motive  in  the  conduct  of  thoee  around  him,  which 
not  unfrequently  wounded  sonic  innocent  object  of  his  suspicion. 
From  hating  the  world,  a  misanthrope  soon  comes  to  hate  himself, 
if,  indeed,  that  be  not  the  first  step ;  and  Mr.  Fitzj  imes  did  not  over- 
estimate the  effect  of  personal  pride  upon  a  man's  worldly  success. 
Every  other  essential  to  such  success,  Lisle  certainly  possessed,  and 
his  industry,  and  devotion  to  his  business  won  him  the  confidence 
of  business  men,  who  are  not  averse  to  mere  human  machines  if  well 
kt-pt  in  order.  Fathers  pronounced  him  "  a  good  reliable  beau  for 
the  girls,  though  a  little  too  severe  and  sarcastic  to  be  very  popu- 
lar," and  brothers  liked  him  when  he  was  genial,  and  bore  with  and 
excused  him  when  he  was  not.  Young  ladies  pronounced  him  "an 
awfully  provoking  fellow,"  and  were  sensible  that  they  were  often 
entrapped  into  displaying  their  real  characters  and  dispositions  in- 
stead of  the  ones  manufactured  for  the  occasion,  and  himself  in 
particular,  but  he  was  too  eligible  to  be  neglected,  nevertheless,  and 
so  remained  a  favorite. 

So  affairs  glided  smoothly  and  successfully  on,  till  a  sudden  and 
peremptory  call  homeward,  reached  him. 

Dr.  Kelley,  feeling  that  his  last  illness  was  upon  him,  begged  to 
see  him  once  more  ;  and  amid  conflicting  emotions  he  obeyed  the 
summons.  Had  not  Mr.  Fit  seines  made  it  a  rule  of  his  life  never  to 
volunteer  remarks  upon  subjects  not  particularly  concerning  him- 
self, he  would  have  given  some  expression  to  the  surprise  with 
which  he  heard  this  announcement,  a  surprise  equalled  only  by  that 
with  which  he  saw  Lisle  prepare  to  leave  his  business,  just  now  un- 
usually active,  without  once  seeming  to  question  the  possibility  of 
offering  any  excuse  in  his  own  stead.  During  all  Mr.  Fitzjauus' 
acquaintance  with  him,  this  was  the  first  exhibition  of  any  unusually 
strong  regard  for  him  he  had  eve*-  witnessed  upon  the  part  of  any 
one,  and  least  of  all  had  he  suspected  its  existence  in  the  heart  of 
Dr.  Kelley,  whose  letters  during  Lisle's  domestication  with  himself 
had  been  too  unfrcquent  to  attract  any  attention  as  indicating  a 
particular  affection. 

It  was  not  singuTir  that  this  apparently  late  coming  regard  man- 
ifesting itself  only  in  the  death  hour,  shouk  excite  Mr.  Fitzjames' 
surprise,  but  he  did  not  in  any  way  express  it,  and  only  prepared 
to  himself  fill  his  place  during  an  absence  which  was  indefinite. 

Hartley,  upon  the  contrary,  gave  full  vent  to  his  curiosity,  and 
a  iked  the  same  questions  as  many  times  over  as  they  were  skillfully 
evaded,  till,  su-p-cting— what,  he  could  not  exnctry  have  defined — 


82  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

he  kept  a  stealthy  watch  upon  all  Lisle's  movements,  which  became 
too  aggravating  to  be  borne  with  inward  complacency,  though  Lisle 
resolutely  restrained  the  often  sarcastic  rebuke  which  rose  to  his 
lips. 

'Til  wager  the  fortune  I  expect  to  make,  that  you  are  anticipating 
a  legacy,  for  all  you  look  so  humble  and  self-righteous  !  Lord  grant 
it  may  be  a  fat  one  !"  had  been  Hartley's  half  laughing,  half  sincere 
ejaculation  as  he  shook  Lisle's  hand  at  patting. 

A  legacy !  Yes,  one  of  shame  and  sorrow,  bequeathed  by  no  form- 
al "  Will  and  Testament,"  which  the  world  might  acknowledge ;  but 
a  gift  which  h:id  been  his  curse  from  the  very  threshold  of  life  ;  a 
legacy  of  a  blighted  existence  who?e  blossoms  were  distrust  and 
misanthropy,  whose  fiuit  was  humiliation  and  bitter  sorrow !  How 
it  was  thai  he  did  not  hate  this  man  for  all  he  had  imposed  upon 
him,  why  he  did  not  curse  him  from  liis  embittered  life,  Lisle  cou'.d 
not  himself  decide.  Yet  often  as  such  feelings  arose  within  him, 
they  were  calmed  and  conquered  by  the  memory  of  his  childhood's 
days  when  this  man  had  been  his  only  friend,  his  kind  words  and 
endearments  the  only  ble.-sings  of  bis  life.  Recollections  of  his  tome- 
times  ineffable  tenderness,  under  which  his  face  softened  and  glowed 
with  .an  almost  heavenly  beauty — of  caressing  arms  which  had 
pressed  him  to  a  breast  audibly  throbbing  its  love  for  him — of  the 
ever  kind  smile  and  protecting  care  when  he  had  needed  them — 
all  these  crowded  upon  his  memory,  and  pressed  back  the  bitter 
thoughts  iu  very  shame !  Despite  art  he  had  suffered,  despite  the 
apprehension  with  which  he  looked  at  the  future,  whose  possible 
revelations  might  far  exceed  in  humiliation  anything  he  had  yet  en- 
dured, Lisle  loved  him  unconquerably. 

Whatever  wrongs  he  suffered  had  not  been  intentionally  inflicted 
upon  him  by  this  man.  at  least,  who,  he  felt  assured,  had  suffered 
scarcely  less  than  he,  and  though  he  did  not  forgive  him  as  the  author 
of  his  exist -.nee,  he  almost  felt  th'it  even  this  was  a  boon  compared 
to  receiving  it  from  the  illiterate,  narrow-minded,  selfish  man  whom 
the  world  called  and  believed  his  f.ither. 

All  these  conflicting  emotions  bore  him  company  upon  his  journey  ; 
and  people  wondered  at  the  reserve  and  silence  thus  hedging  from 
all  chance  companionship  so  young  a  man,  whose  brow  wns  at  mo- 
ments seamed  with  the  lines  of  age. 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE    POPLARS.  83 


rt-         CHAPTER  IX. 

IT  was  a  raw  spring  day,  and  the  twilight  was  spreading  cold  and 
gray  when  Lisle  arrived  in  his  native  town,  now  a  station  upon  one 
of  the  many  railways  intersecting  the  State  ;  and  he  looked  a  second 
time  before  quite  recognizing  his  precise  location.  The  old  land- 
marks were  soon  found,  howeveT,  and  a  few  moments  brought  him 
to  Dr.  Kelley's  door.  .His  ring  was  answered  by  Mrs.  Kclley  her-self, 
who  did  not  recognize  the  tall  figure  standing  in  the  uncertain^  light, 
nor  the  voice  which,  to  test  her,  inquired  quietly  for  the  doctor. 
Mrs.  Kelley  hesitated,  looked  again,  and  then  asked, 

"  What  name,  sir  ?  The  dqctqr  is  so  ill  that  he  receives  none  but 
his  most  intimate  friends." 

"  Mrs.  Kelley,  is  it  possible  you  do  not  recognize  me !"  exclaimed 
Lisle  stepping  forward.  "  I  must  have  changed  much  more  than 
you  have  done." 

"  Lisle  Sterling,  is  >t  possible  1"  cried  Mrs.  Kelley,  embracing  him 
warmly,  while  he  returned  her  cnress  with  the  great*ful  conscious- 
ness that  absence  and  time  had  left  her  affection  for  him  unimpaired. 
Had  she  only  been  his  mother  !  he  mentally  ejaculated  as  he  kissed 
again  the  kind  face  beaming  into  his  own.  Hers  had  been  the  only 
maternal  care  he  had  ever  received,  hers  the  thoughtful  affection  that 
had  thrown  some  rays  of  sunshine  over  even  his  thorny  path,  at  such 
times  as  he  could  escape  his  swn  miserable  home  and  find  refuge  in 
hers.  Every  scheme  the  doctor  had  planned  for  his  benefit  had  bcc'ii 
most  fully  seconded  and  carried  out  by  her,  and  he  knew  that  this 
friendship  and  care  had  been  equally  be»towed  upon  Eddy,  after 
his  own  departure.  He  had  been  duly  apprised  that  he  had  become 
the  doctor's  pupil,  and  that  from  his  purse  were  derived  the  funds 
which  enabled  him  to  attend  the  necessary  course  of  lectures  to  fit 
him  for  a  physician  ;  upon  which  subject  Edward  had  poured  out  a 
torrent  of  wordy  bitterness  over  his  father's  stinginess,  in  which  he 
accused  him  of  having  brought  him  into  a  world  in  which  he  now 
begrudged  him  the  means  of  making  a  liytng.  Lislo  had  read  hu 


g4  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLA11S. 

brother's  indignant  outpouring  with  feelings  scarcely  less  strong,  ami, 
later,  had  blushed  for  very  shame  when  he  learned  that  the  doctor 
himself  had  added  this  charity  to  his  other  benefits. 

All  this  passed  rapidly  through  Lisle's  mind  as  he  looked  upon  the 
levin"-  face  of  his  more  than  mother,  thinking  it  the  only  one  he  had 
ever  beheld  whose  every  line  was  goodness. 

"  And  now,"  she  said,  at  last  recalled  to  the  of  cares  the  present, 
''  I  must  go  and  tell  the  doctor  you  are  here.  He  has  for  some  ica- 
son  seemed  very  apprehensive  that  you  would  not  come.  Of  course 
there  can  be  but  little  here  likely  to  prove  pleasant  to  you  from  as- 
sociation, but  thank  Heaven  those  miserable  days  are  gone  forever. 
In  this  house,  which  you  must  make  your  home,  I  hope  there  linger 
no  unhappy  memories.  I  have  always  wished  you  were  my  own  son, 
and  I  know  the  doctor  wishes  it  no  less.  How  glad,  he  will  be  to 
see  you !" 

Lisle  awaited  her  return,  imagining  how  the  announcement  of  his 
presence  there  would  be  received  by  the  doctor,  and  feeling  more 
than  ever  his  anomalous  position  under  that  roof;  but  he  had  brief 
space  for  such  meditations,  as  Mrs.  Kelley  returned  almost  immedi- 
ately, and  showing  him  to  the  doctor's  room,  softly  pushed  him  in 
and  closed  the  door,  ieeling  instinctively  that  they-would  prefer  be- 
ing left  alone.  > 

No  one  interrupted  the  long  interview  that  followed,  nor  were  any 
remarks  made  upon  it,  Mrs.  Kelley  feeling  more  than  contented  that 
the  doctor  was  calmer  and  happier  after  it,  hanging  upon  Lisle's 
•words  with  an  all-absorbing  devotion,  and  becoming  restless  if  ho 
were  ever  absent,  while  Lisle  repaid  this  affection  by  a  thoughtful 
care  and  tenderness  rivalling  Mrs.  Kelley's  own,  and  shared  her 
vigils  unceasingly. 

As  for  the  doctor,  he  felt  that  this  was  the  one  tribute  of  respect 
or  affection  he  had  ever  received  which  did  not  stigmatize  him  as  a 
hypocrite,  and  he  prized  and  revelled  in  it  accordingly.  Had  Mrs. 
Sterling  been  other  than  she  was ;  had  she  won  her  son's  affection  by 
performing  even  a  mother's  duty  to  him;  had  he  for  any  reason 
loved  her  more,  he  must  have  loved  the  doctor  less ;  but  since  ho 
could  remember  anything,  she  had  been  harsh  and  unkind  towards 
him,  and  all  he  had  known  of  anything  approaching  parental  care 
had  been  b<  stowed  upon  him  by,  the  doctor,  who  at  least  loved  him 
as  a  father,  if  he  could  not  claim  the  title.  Feeling  that  the  time 
had  now  arrived  when  common  justice  to  himself  impelled  him  to  a 
plain,  unvarnished  history  o.f  his  former  relationship  towards  LydLi 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  85 

Fitzjames,  the  doctor  gave  it ;  and  while  noT;  attempting  to  deny 
his  own  wrong  doing,  much  appeared  in  extenuation  of  his  fault. 
That  he  had  been  the  too  easy  victim  of  a  designing,  conscienceless 
woman,  was  only  too  evident — generously  as  he  spoke  of  her  when 
the  story  was  ended,  and  plead  her  wifely  duty  so  faithfully  per- 
formed toward  the  uncongenial  husband  she  had  married  in  exten- 
uation of  the  errors  of  her  unmarried  life. 

But  one  torturing  foreboding  oppressed  Lisle's  thoughts  by  day, 
and  haunted  his  pillow  by  night.  Weakened  in  mind  by  his  illness, 
and  shrinking  from  carrying  his  secret  uuconfessed  to  the  grave, 
Dr.  Keliey  longed  to  express  his  penitence  and  remorse  to  Mr. 
Sterling,  and  seek  his  forgiveness  for  the  part  he  had  acted  towards 
him.  Time  and  again  the  subject  was  discussed  between  them, 
Li-le's  forcible  reasoning  against  it  satisfying  him  only  for  the  time. 
In  vaiu  he  acknowledged  the  domestic  misery  it  must  inflict, 
perhaps  even  causing  a  separation  between  Mr.  Sterling  and  his 
wife  after  these  years,  for  which  the  world  would  demand  the  ex- 
cuse;  one  day  silenced  by  all  this,  the  next  it  lost  force;  and  the 
only  restraining  influence  exercised  over  him  was  Lisle's  sensitive 
shrinking  from  the  position  it  would  place  him  in  towards  an  un- 
just world  who  would  jeer  at  him  to  the  very  portals  of  the  grave, 
as  though  he  himself  were  guihy  under  the  stain  put  upon  him  by 
the  sin  of  others. 

The  philosophy  which  had  reconciled  him  to  being  the  illegiti- 
mate son  of  a  talented  'gentleman  rather  than  the  honorably-born 
boor  of  a  vulgar,  illiterate  father,  paled  and  died  out  under  a  pen- 
alty thus  heavy.  Such  philosophy  is  attainable  by  a  proud  man 
only  under  the  world's  ignorance  of  the  fact ;  and  Lisle  plead  this 
so  forcibly  that  the  doctor  apparently  yielded  the  point,  and  ho 
hoped  all  would  yet  be  well.  • 

Even  Mrs.  Keliey  remained  in  ignornnce  of  this  secret  which  Imd 
so  long  lain  buried  in  her  husband's  heart,  and  he  shrank  from 
telling  it  to  her  after  all  the.-e  years  of  silence.  Mo<-t  men  easily 
reconcile  themselves  to  the  idea  that  it  is  useless,  if  not  cruel,  to  re- 
veal to  their  wives  anything  which  they  will  not  be  the  happier  for 
knowing;  and  had  the  doctor's  conscience  been  as  much  at  rest 
toward  his  fellow-man,  Lisle  would  have  felt  at  ense. 

Several  days  elapse!  before  Lisle  turned  his  steps  homeward — 
nlas !  a  spot  less  homelike  for  him  than  any  the  wide  world  con- 
tained beside  ;  and  only  then  in  dread  of  gossiping  tongues.  Feel- 
ing, at  length,  tlmt  it  could  be  postpone  1  no  longer,  he  summoned 


8G  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

Edward  to  help  him  bear  his-  cro?s,  zrad.  the  two  sat  out  upon  (he 
inevitable  visit,  scarcely  le^s  disrast-'Ril-/  to  one  than  the  other  of 
them.  It  seemed  a  natural  penalty  that  Mrs.  Sterling  should  have 
forfeited  and  forever  lost  the  affection  of  the  one  child  whom  sho 
idolized,  by  the  very  injustice  she  heaped  upon  the  unloved  one — 
a  penalty  whose  keenest  sting  was  derived  from  her  own  knowledge 
that  it  was  precisely  thus  she  had  incurred  it.  Despite  the  fond 
partiality  she  had  openly  displayed  for  Edward  from  his  very 
cradle,  he  despised  her  for  her  very  cruelty  to  his  brother,  even  as 
that  brother  had  declared  his  own  open  euruity  !  Few  ever  confesi 
the  justice  of  their  punishments,  and  Mrs.  Sterling  cried  out  that  slie 
was  an  injured  mother. 

During  his  childhood,  the  scriptural  bear  story  had  failed  to 
make  any  satisfactory  impression  upon  his  sensibilities,  though 
often  impressively  related  by  his  father  ;  and  as  he  grew  older,  he 
with  wilful  perversity  insisted  that  the  prophet  was  more  blame- 
deserving  than  the  spirited  children,  and  pronounced  him  "  a 
wicked,  malicious  old  hunks,"  much  to  his  father's  holy  horror.  Nor 
did  any  amount  of  clerical  lecturing  at  all  mitigate  this  opinion, 
he  avowing  in  the  very  clergyman's  teeth  that  a  fellow  who  couldn't 
take  a  joke  from  a  few  brats  was  no  man  at  all !  If  not  a  prodigal, 
he  was  an  undutiful  son  ;  and  he  had  heard  it  so  many  times  de- 
clared, that  he  shunned  the  paternal  roof  persistently. 

It  was  perhaps  the  legitimate  effect  of  so  many  years'  separation, 
that  a  feeling  of  constraint  tiad  grown  up  between  the  brothers, 
loving  each  other  as  they  always  had  done  ;  and  each  had  seen  and 
battled  with  ft  but  half  successfully,  as  they  mutually  felt  now  that 
they  were  reunited. 

Not  that  there  was  any  change  noticeable  to  others — far  from  it. 
But  each  felt  that  invisible  barrier  springing  up  between  the  closest 
friends  during  years  of  absence,  and  individual  cares  unshared  by 
the  other.  Had  Lisle  retarned  with  the  same  physique,  so  demand- 
ing protection  and  championship,  he  would  have  seemed  to  Edward 
the  very  same  brother,  and  his  heart  and  fists  would  have  been « laid 
£  free  offering  before  him  ;  but  he  smiled  at  the  very  idea  of  pro- 
tecting the  dignified,  handsome  young  mau  at  least  a  head  taller 
than  himself,  whose  very  appearance  was  a  sufficient  insurancw 
against  any  insult  or  attempt  at  oppression.;  and  as  if  in  continua- 
tion of  the  thought,  he  asked,  as  they  rode  toward  the  mill-house, 
""\Yhat  do  you  suppose  tlje  old  lady  will  say  o/  your  rather  im- 
posing appearance ' " 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND    THE  POPLARS.  87 

"  It  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me,  I  assure  you.  I  was  at  this 
identical  moment  rejoicing  that  I'm  now  too  large  to  be '  whipped  out 
of  my  skin.'  Almost  as  large  as  that  marvellous  'Mount  Tom' 
which  looms  up  in  so  many  old  women's  imaginations  when  about 
to  perform  a  disagreeable  duty  with  alacrity.  '  I'd  whip  you  if  you 
were  as  big  as  Mount  Tom ! '  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

"•Remember?  Yes,  more  than  I  wish  I  did.  I  declare  it's  haul 
when  a  fcilow  can't  drum  up  even  a  decent  amount  of  regard  for  hi.; 
own  parents,  isn't  it  ?  One  ought  to  have  at  least  a  rag  of  filial  re- 
spect; left  him." 

"  Those  are  very  fortunate  who  have.  I  don't  know  though  but 
its  absence  is  a  curse  inflicted  upon  each  new  generation ;  for  I 
know  our  parents  were  in  a  very  similar  position  towards  their  own. 
It's  enough  to  make  all  men  and  some  women  vow  themselves  to 
celibacy,  if  only  to  escape  becoming  '  the  old  folks '  themselves." 

"  Yes,  one  might  look  for  something  of  the  kind  in  men;  but 
women,  as  they  take  it,  were  made  for  matrimony,  instead  of  mat- 
rimony being  invented  for  them — a  transposition  of  the  affair  like 
unto  the  Puritan  idea  of  the  Sabbath,  but  twice  as  fruitful  of 
trouble.  However,  it's  deuced  lucky  for  them  that  take  to  it  so 
kindly." 

"  It  may  be  lucky — I  dinna  ken — I  only  know  that  it's  vastly  dis- 
agreeable to  a  fellow  when  forced  to  understand  that  he  is  the  in- 
tended victim  of  some  matrimonially-inclined  feminine  taking  kindly 
to  it." 

"  Really,  now,  Lisle,  is  that  meant  as  an  insinuation  that  yon 
often  suffer  in  that  way  ?  I'm  thankful  that  I'm  not  fascinating." 

Lisle  colored  under  the  raillery,  but  made  no  reply ;  and,  repent- 
ing the  insinuation  conveyed  in  &,  Edward  said,  apologetically, 

"Now,  Lisle,  don't  imagine  that  I  meant  to  dub  you  a  puppy  or 
an  imaginary  '  lady  kifter;'  but  you  are  handsome  and  all  thaf, 
and  you  must  know  it,  so  what's  the  use  of  making  any  bones  about 
it.  Any  woman  in  a  thoughtful  humor,  will  confess  that  sho 
fancies  a  good-looking  man,  and  is  less  apt  to  feel  her  own  '  a  con- 
genial spirit '  with  that  inhabiting  an  ugly  man's  carcass.  I'd  be 
jealous  of  you  myself,  were  it  not  a  shame  to  enter  the  lists  against , 
my  own  brother ;  and  of  course  Juiie  can't  see  plain,  unpretending 
me  behind  your  more  imposing  shadow." 

"  Julie  Kelh-y  ?"  •*—-.- 

"Yes,   why   not?    Do  you   pretend   to  say   that    you   haven't 


88  THE  HOUSE  BEiUXD   THE  POPLARS. 

observed  the  admiration  she  looks,  acts,  and  all  but  speaks,  every 
time  you  come  ne.ir  liu  :  " 

••  Why,  Julie  is  a  mere  child." 

"  Something  more  than  sixteen,  wh:ch  many  a  woman  considers 
sufficiently  aged  for  matrimonial  speculations,  as  our  grandmother 
could,  testify.'1 

'•  Yes,  but  age  depends  less  upon  the  number  of  actual  years  than 
many  people  suppose;  and  Julie  is  a  child,  despite  her  sixteen  of 
them.  Not  over-burdened  with  intellect,  either,  I  imagine." 

''Lisle,''  asked  his  brother,  with  some  vexation,  "do  you  never 
see  anything  praiseworthy  in  anything  or  any  one  ? " 

"  Not  much,  I  must  confess,  always  excepting  a  very  few." 

"  Well ;  if  a  young  lady  is  pretty,  docs  it  effectually  prevent  her 
being  anything  more." 

"  Quite  the  contrary  ;  she  is  very  apt  to  be  artful  in  due  propor- 
tion." 

"  Then  whit,  in  your  estimation,  may  an  ugly  one  become  ?" 

"Spiteful  and  malicious, to  a  certainty,  nine  times  in  ten, nnd  in 
the  tenth  one  so  unbearably  sensitive  about  her  personal  plainness, 
that  she  is  equally  us  uncomfortable  for  a  companion." 

Ed vr;ird  laughed,  but  Lble  looked  as  though  he  wondered  at  what. 

'•  Then  do  tell  me,  Lisle,  since  men  must  marry  these  imperfect 
creature-;,  which  would  you  advise  him  to  endure?1' 

"  Neither,  as  long  as  he  can  avoid  it.  All  fools  marry,  and  now 
and  then  a  wise  man  takes  leave  of  his  senses  and  comfort  in  the 
same  way.  My  theiry  i=.  that  if  we  did  nothing  in  the  premises, 
such  of  us  ns  are  pre-doomcd  to  matrimony  would  in  due  time  find 
a  double  hiiched  to  him,  or  perhaps  take  it  in  the  natural  way,  like 
measle*,  and  whooping  cough,  or  absorb  it  in  his  vaccination,  which 
certainly  would  have  this  consolation — that  a  man  wasn't  to  blame 
for  the  misfortune.'' 

Again  Edward  laughed,  this  time  a  little  provoked,  but  Lisle's 
face,  so  far  from  we  iring  a  smile,  looked  actually  bitter,  and  men- 
tul'y  pronouncing  him  a  strange  fellow,  El  ward  did  not  pursue  the 
topic,  and  the  mill-house  soon  was  within  sight,  changing  the  cur- 
icnt  of  their  thoughts. 

'•  Dots  it  look  natural  r"'  asked  Edward  with  a  faint  sigh. 

"  Painfully  so.  My  very  toes  tingle  now,  in  memory  of  the  cold 
which  u«ed  to  tweak  them  during  those  long  slow  rides  up  from 
town  after  t'ae  Sunday  sermons  when  it  looked  ungodly  to  drive 
fast,  and  my  jacket  itches  again  under  the  recollection  of  the  flog- 


THE  IIOUSE  IJE1IIND  THE   POPLARS.  £9 

ging  sure  to  succeed  the  dismal  day,  as  the  old  lady's  arm  always 
pined  for  its  customary  exercise  after  such  a  season  of  inaction. 
Really,  Ed,  it's  no  shame  to  speak  the  truth  at  all  timt-s — Washing- 
ton did — so  I  outrightly  affirm  that  that  old  lady  up  there  on  the 
hill,  has  more  of  the  very  evil  one  under  her  silly  exterior,  than  ten 
smarter  women  ever  had  !  Her  very  shallowness  only  makes  a  better 
cloak  to  screen  his  Satanic  Majesty,  never  for  one  hour  out  of  her. 
Did  you  ever  see  such  a  head  as  she  has,  really  long,  almost  to  de- 
formity ?" 

''Did  you  ever  see  a  gray-eyed  person,  male  or  female,  who  had 
not  naturally  the  very  spirit  of  evil  in  them  ?  A  good  person  with 
gray  eyes,  must  verily  have  triumphed  over  '  the  world,  the  flesh, 
and  the  devil !'  (Dashed  if  there  isn't  a  little  of  my  catechism  !  I'd 
no  idea  any  of  it  ever  struck  in!)  It's  the  strangest  tiling  in  life  to 
me  how  father  ever  happened  to  marry  any  one — above  all,  her. 
They're  as  antagonistic  as  possible.  Can  you  account  for  it  ?" 

"  Most  marriages  defy  all  human  calculation,  and  if  human  calcu- 
lation were  '  a  s  iving  grace,'  few  or  none  would  be  perpetrated.  The 
iruth  was  in  this  case,  though,  that  she  wanted  a  home  and  didn't 
want  to  be  an  old  maid,  which  she  was  near  being,  and  he  wanted 
some  one  to  look  after  his  crazy  old  mother.  He  married  a  house- 
keeper and  maid  of  all  work,  and  she  married  a  liquidator  of  bills 
— though,  for  that  matter,  few  husbands  contrive  to  pay  fewer.  I 
don't  believe  he  ev^-r  bought  twenty  dollars'  worth  of  dry-goods  for 
her  in  one  year,  since  she  took  an  altar  contract  to  patch  his  old 
breeches  !" 

"  Do  you  recollect  she  always  pronounced  the  Sterlings  '  a  race  of 
skin-flints!'  (I'd  like  to  see  that  surgical  operation  performed),  but, 
after  all,  if  a  woman  can't  be  frank  and  confidential  with  her  own 
husband,  to  whom  shall  she  pour  out  her  trustful  revealings?" 

The  two  broth'ers  indulged  in  a  quiet  laugh  as  they  left  the  c-irri'igo 
at  the  gate,  and  casting  a  furtive  glance  toward  the  house,  saw  Mrs. 
Sterling  at  the  window,  as  they  anticipated,  peeping  at  the  new 
arrivals,  and  directly  the  sound  of  a  hurrying  broom,  and  farther 
audible  evidence  of  stray  articles  tossed  hither  and  thither  and 
slammed  out  of  sight  by  conveniently  'on  duty'  doors, proved  that 
company  was  recognized  as  a  forthcoming  fact,  one  at  least  of  whom 
was  a  stranger,  for  whom  things  should  be  put  to  rights. 

"  Natural  as  lifo !"  exclaimed  Lisle  in  recollection  of  many  similar 
scenes  in  which  he  had  contributed  his  mite  of  assistance,  and  Eel- 
ward  nodded  and  laughed. 


90  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  * 

"  Human  nature,  the  workl  over,  '  puts  the  best  foot  foremost,' 
willing  to  pass,  unblushingly,  for  a  trifle  more  than  circumstances 
warrant.  By  the  way,  who  make  all  the  proverbs  ?" 

"  Difficult  to  say,  but  the  Chinese  are  credited  with  one  which 
suits  me  :  '  May  I  never  appear  in  another  life  under  the  form  of  a 
woman  or  a  jackall.'  Now  I  think  of  it,  this  may  be  a  prayer,  but 
•nobody  here  knowing  any  prayers,'  as  they  say  in  the  Legislature, 
the  mistake  doesn't  need  correction." 

As  they  advanced  up  the  path,  Mr«.  Sterling  threw  open  the  door, 
exclaiming, 

"  Why,  Edward,  my  son,  is  this  you  ?" 

"I'm  not  at  all  certain  upon  that  point,  but  a  wise  mother  knows 
her  own  son,  I  suppose." 

"  Strange  if  she  didn't !"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Sterling. 

"How  do  you  do,  mother?1'  asked  Lisle  extending  his  hand  not 
over  cordially. 

"  Why,  Lisle  Sterling,  is  tnat  really  you  ?"  exclaimed  his  mother 
looking  at  him  more  closely,  and  but  half  recognizing  him  yet. 

"  Strange  if  she  didn't !"  retorted  Edward  laughingly,  and  thus 
reassured,  she  embraced  him  with  much  feigned  affection,  kissing, 
his  cheek  as  she  did  so.  Neither  the  embrace  nor  the  kiss  vjgrc  re- 
turned, nor  altogether  endured  with  fortitude.  Mrs.  Sterling  was 
quick  to  perceive  this  fact,  politely  as  it  was  veiled ;  but  her  dupli- 
city prevented  her  betraying  that  she  did  note  it,  and  she  continued 
reproachfully, 

"  And  never  once  to  write  us  that  you  were  coming  to  see  us  ! 
Well,  such  surprises  are  always  pleasant,  and  I  suppose  you  knew  it." 

"  The  feet  ia,  that  I  intended  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  came  sudden- 
ly, and  to  myself  quite  unexpectedly,  as  I  was  sent  for." 

"I  was  in  hopes  you  had  come  home  to  try  and  retrieve  you-r 
credit.  You  know  you  didn't  go  away  under  the  best  of  circum- 
stances, and  it  has  always  been  my  prayer  that  you  might  come  to 
see  the  error  of  your  ways,  and  repent.  But  I  forgive  you,  even 
while  your  heart  is  unsoftened.  I  suppose  Dr.  Kelley  sent  for  you. 
How  long  have  you  been  here  ?" 

"  About  five  minutes,  I  should  judge,  and  you  haven't  yet  asked 
me  to  be  seated,  nor  called  your  liege  lord." 

"  Why  so  I  han't !  Do  sit  down,  and  I'll  send  at  once.  So  it  wn* 
Dr.  Kelley  that  sent  for  you,  was  it?  Just  like  him!  ^R  nlways 
took  'in  interest  in  you." 

"  That  is  what  few  others  ever  did,  then.    Is  father  at  the  mill  ?" 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLARS.  91 

"Yes,  I  guess  so.  Kell,  run  to  the  mill  and  toil  your  father  the 
boys  have  couie ;  both  o£i'em.'' 

A  shy  young  girl  who  had  been  making  observations  from  behind 
the  screen  of  a  half  open  door,  slipped  out  and  darted  swiftly  away, 
and  Mrs.  Sterling,  after  a  moments  criticism  of  Lisle's  appearance, 
eaid, 

:  "  Bless  me,  Lisle,  how  you  have  grown  ;  a  fine  gentleman  with 
moustache  and  all !  You  must  be  about  as  tall  as  your  father  now. 
Don't  you  think  he's  just  about  your  father's  size,  Edward  ?" 

"  He's  as  big  as  '  Mount  Tom,'  now,  isn't  he,  mother  ?  " 

"  Edward,  it's  right  ungrateful  of  you  to  twit  me  as  you  always 
do.  I  never  whipped  any  of  my  children  much,  for  I  never  did  ap- 
prove of  whipping,  though  I  sometimes  think  now  that  it  Blight 
have  been  better  if  I  had." 

"  Then  thank  the  Lord  you  have  sinned  away  your  day  of  grace  ! 
There  never  lived  the  woman  who  thought  she  had  whipped  her 
children  much  if  they  grew  up  with  a  whole  inch  of  hide  on  their 
backs !  Lisle  here  can  tell  yon  whether  you  used  to  set  the  stars 
dancing  before  his  eyes  every  hour  or  so.  It  was  five-and-twenty 
years  ago,  and  I  know  his  ears  ring  with  it  it  yet.  Confess,  Lisle, 
that  nothing  of  this  is  figurative  language  except  the  'five-and- 
twenty  years  ago.'  Subtract  a  few  years,  and  answer." 

"  Well,  then,  I  frankly  confess  that  I  don't  care  to  be  '  superan- 
nuated down'  for  the  purpose  of  re-living  any  of  my  juvenile  ex- 
periences. The  less  said  of  them  the  better,  for  they  are  not  pleas- 
ant reminiscences." 

Mrs.  Sterling  colored  slightly,  and  restlessly  pinned  and  unpinned 
her  sleeve  cuffs  while  making  some  unintelligible  comment  upon 
Mr.  Sterling's  slowness  in  coming  in. 

He  came  at  last,  dressed  in  a  suit  of  faded  brown,  so  much  re- 
sembling the  patched  garments  of  years  ago  that  they  seemed  the 
very  same ;  and  shuffling  in  with  his  usual  heavy  tread,  he  shook 
Lisle's  hand  frpin  side  to  side,  like  the  motion  of  the  sieves  in  a 
fanning-mill  for  cleaning  grain,  while  he  contemplated  the  changes 
time  had  made  in  his  appearance. 

"  You've  changed  a  good  deal  in  seven  years,"  said  he,  at  la-t, 
slowly.  "You  don't  look  so  much  like  my  family  as  I  thought  you 
would.  I  don't  see  any  of  the  Sterling  feafers  about  you." 

"Don't  you  think,  Mr.  Sterling,  he  looks  like  his  uncle  Fifz- 
james  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Sterling,  insinuatingly.  "  He  is  more  like  my 
family  than  he  showed  out  when  he  was  little.  There's  my  sister, 


92  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

Mrs.  Deacon  Hendry — Lucy  Fitzjames  that  was — they're  as  much 
alike  as  two  peas  !  I  wish  he  was  a  woman  now,  that  you  might 
see  it  as  plain  as  I  do." 

"Thank  the  Lord  for  small  favors  then  1  I  wouldn't  care  to  be  a 
woman,  even  to  resemble  '  Lucy  Fitzj:imes  that  was.'  It  is  no  doubt 
a  most  illustrious  family ;  but  I  should  dislike  being  a  twin '  pea'  to 
any  of  them,  always  excepting  uncle  Warren,"  said  Lisle,  bitterly. 

"  Yes,  by  the  way,  how  is  your  uncle?  Hale  and  hearty  yet; 
looks  as  if  he  might  live  a  good  many  years  yet,  don't  he?"  asked 
Mrs.  Sterling,  with  a  calculating  expression  upon  her  face  which 
she  meant  should  be  expressive  of  affectionate  interest. 

"Yes,  I  am  happy  to  say  his  health  is  excellent  He  really  looks 
younger  than  he  did  seven  years  ago  when  I  first  saw  him." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  of  it,"  she  replie  I,  looking  absently  throngh  the 
•window ;  but  her  expression  of  features  so  belied  her  words,  that 
Edward  irreverently  laughed  outright,  then  said,  cheerfully  and  en- 
couragingly, 

"  That's  right  and  proper,  mother.  Cultivate  Christian  patience. 
There's  no  chance  of  anything  falling  to  you  from  the  profits  of '  the 
mule  business,'  for  some  time  yet.  There's  money  enough  in  the 
Fitzjames  family,  '  first  and  last ; '  but  they  all  have  such  invet- 
eratoly  childish  habits,  that  sorry  a  penny  falls  to  the  eliildren  of 
anybody  else." 

An  interruption  occurred  at  this  juncture,  by  the  appearance  of 
little  Nell,  who  seemed  the  universal  baby-tender,  carrying  a  fat, 
bald-headed,  toothless  youngster  of  something  less  than  ten  months, 
eccentrically  slung  across  one  hip,  from  which  he  dangled  down  in  a 
precarious,  irregular  manner  with  which  he  seemed  perfectly  famil- 
iar, as  he  offered  no  protest  against  it.  Little  Nell  was  evidently  a 
poor  calculator ;  as,  though  she  entered  the  doorway  in  perfect 
safety  as  far  as  she  herself  was  concerned,  the  hip-slung  baby  was  one 
too  many,  and  his  bald  head  came  in  collision  with  the  post,  in  a 
manner  suggestive  of  black  and  blue  bumps  to  one  or  both  of  them. 

Mrs.  Sterling  boxed  Nell's  ears,  and  shook  the  now  loudly- 
protesting  baby,  after  which  she  shut  both  of  them  from  the  room, 
and  returned  to  her  chair  just  as  Mr.  Sterling  said  to  Edward,  re- 
provingly, 

"  It's  very  wrong  of  you  to  speak  to  your  mother  in  that  way 
about  her  family.  They  were  one  of  the  very  best  families 'in  the 
country,  before  they  scattered  off,  like ;  and  have  better  blood  in. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  93 

tluir  veins  than  any  other  family  here  about.  Even  if  they  hadn't 
you  shouldn't  allow  yourself  to  speak  so  disrespectful." 

Mrs.  Sterling's  usual  weapon  came  to  her  aid,  and  raising  her 
apron  to  her  eyes,  she  sobbed,  in  an  injured  tone, 

"  Oh,  I'm  used  to  it.  I  never  did  have  any  respect  from  my  own 
children,  and  I  never  look  to  have  any.  Bat  it's  hard  when  I've 
worked  so  for  'cm  all  my  days,  not  to  get  any  credit  for  it  now." 

"  Bah !  "  exclaimed  Edward,  impatiently  ;  for  though  he  doubted 
the  reality  of  her  ostentatious  grief,  having  witnessed  its  hypocriti- 
c.il  display  on  many  occasions,  it  was  disagreeable  to  find  himself 
the  object  at  which  it  was  aimed  ;  and  as  of  all  things  he  hated  a 
family  scene  in  which  a  crying  woman  acted  a  part,  he  walked  off 
into  the  yard  and  deserted  it  entirely,  satisfied  that  Lisle  would 
prove  waterproof. 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  come  home  so  sudden,  Lisle — come  to 
stay  ? "  asked  Mr.  Sterling,  when  quiet  was  restored. 

"  I  don't  know  how  long,  sir.  The  length  of  my  stay  depends 
entirely  upon  other  persons.  I  want  to  return  to  Louisville  as  soon 
as  possible." 

"Ahem!  I  suppose  you  are  doing  a  good  business  there  by  this 
time.  About  three  years  ago,  I  should  think,  your  uncle  wrote  me 
that  if  I  was  ever  going  to  do  anything  for  you,  a  little  capital  would 
be  a  seasonable  olfer  on  my  part.  But  I  hadn't  any  to  spare  just 
then,  and  so  I  wrote  him.  It  costs  a  good  deal  of  money  to  set  boys 
up  in  any  of  them  town  businesses,  and  I  thought  you'd  better  come 
home  and  go  into  the  mill  with  me,  It's  a  good  safe  business,  and 
the  most  nateral  one  for  you,  you  know.  Did  Mr.  Fitzjames  meutton 
it?" 

"Not  to  me,  sir.     This  is  the  first  I  ever  heard  of  it." 

"I  said  so!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sterling,  triumphantly.  "I  knew 
ffiy  brother,  with  all  his  money  out  of  twenty  years  at  the  mule  bu- 
s'ness,  never  cxred  the  snap  of  his  thumb  for  any  Sterling  capitnl. 
I  knew,  and  I  said  so  at  the  time,  that  it  was  just  a  way  of  feeling 
around  to  see  what  your  father  meant  to  do  for  you  in  the  world ; 
and  he's  proved  it  by  never  telling  you  a  word  of  it,  and  going  and 
setting  you  up  himself,  in  a  business  that  suits  his  notions.  Mr. 
Sterling  thought,  perhaps,  he  had  taken  offence  at  his  refusal  to 
give;  but  I'm  proud  to  say  no  Fitzjames  ever  yet  nsked  a  favor  of 
anybody,  and  he  no  doubt  had  his  calculations  all  made  before  he 
wrote  that  letter.  I  suppose  he  took  your  father's  answer  for  a  quit 
claim  deed  on  you ;  and  no  wonder !  None  of  my  family  was  ever  a 


94  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

miller,  thank  heaven  !  But  you  must  have  wheedled  him  some  way, 
1  can't  see  into !  I  suppose  you're  looking  to  get  all  his  money  by- 
and-bye,  and  will  set  up  for  a.  nabob  on  it ;  but  he  ought  to  divide 
it." 

"  I  have  never  for  one  moment  calculated  upon  receiving  one  dol- 
lar from  my  uncle  at  his  death.  He  has  done  more  for  me  already 
than  any  man  could  think  of  without  feeling  both  gratitude,  and  a 
species  of  humiliation;  and  if  he  wills  his  property  to  an  asylum,  or 
I  throws  it  into  the  sea,  I  shall  never  feel  that  it  was  any  busiiress  of 
mine,  nor  that  I  am  in  any  way  misused  by  it.  Heaven  forbid." 

"  I  suppose  l*e  has  done  a  good  deal  for  you.  He  isn't  a  man  to 
do  things  by  halves ;  generosity  is  a  real  Fitzjames  trait.  But  you'll 
never  make  me  believe  you  han't  an  eye  to  the  main  chance,  if  you 
do  preach  it  up  to  him.  But  this  I  do  gay ;  you  ought  to  give  your 
brother  Edward  half  of  it,  if  he  don't." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  mother,  do  wait,  with  a  decent  amount  of 
patience,  before  you  administer  upon  the  estate.  It  isn't  worth 
while  to  begin  to  grab  for  it  btfowe  he  is  done  with  it  himself." 

"Oh,  I  don't  expect  any  of  it;  but  it's  certainly  natural  that  I 
should  look  out  for  one  child  who  han't  any  show  to  look  out  for 
himself,  when  the  other  is  having  it  all  his  own  way.  /  never  expect 
to  be  anything  but  cramped  for  money,  as  I  always  have  been.  You 
all  of  you  know  that  your  father  is  closer'n  the  bark  to  a  tree ;  it's 
in  the  Sterling  blood,  closeness  is,  and  if  my  family  could  have  seen 
how  I  was  to  be  pinched  and  skimped  with  him,  there'd  have  been 
other  calculations  made  abont  dividing  the  Fitzjames  property,  if 
not 'about  my  marriage." 

"  There  was  only  too  much  '  calculation '  in  the  marriage,  it  strikes 
me.  Rather  a  calculating  nffair,  the  whole  of  it !"  exclaimed  Lisle, 
stung  by  the  whole  tenor  of  her  remarks,  aud  resenting  the  injustice 
heaped  upon  the  old  man  who  sat  so  meekly  under  the  provocations 
he  recognized,  undreaming  of  the  wrongs  which  lay  farther  back,  in 
which  this  woman's  calculation  had  made  him  the  victim.  She  had 
little  right  to  upbraid  him  for  anything  such  a  marriage  might  have 
imposed  upon  her,  and  it  nHgered  Lisle  to  be  a  witness  of  it.  Rising, 
he  buttoned  his  coat  to  go.  Mrs.  Sterling  jealously  remonstrated. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  can't  stop  an  hour  longer  under  your 
parents'  roof.  It  is  a  poor  place,  an't  it  ?'' 

"  I  promised  to  be  back  at  the  doctor's  by  noon,  and  I  don't  wish 
to  disappoint  him.  Beside,  I've  a  livery  horse  which  is  to  be  at  the 
stable  by  twelve  o'ck>ck  to  fill  an  engagement." 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  95 

"  Couldn't  you  liave  walked  up  here  just  as  well  as  to  hire  a 
horse  ?  Law !  but  money  is  plenty  in  your  pocket !  It  is  a-coming 
up  in  the  world  since  I  used  to  '  give  it  to  you '  once  an  hour  for 
ugliness  and  lying-.  You  was  about  the  worst  child  I  ever  saw." 

"  Your  reminiscences  may  be  very  pleasant  to  you,  mother,  and 
if  they  are  I  am  abundantly  willing  you  should  enjoy  them;  but  I 
confess  they  are  anything  but  gratifying  to  me,  and  the  less  you. 
refer  to  them,  perhaps  the  better  for  us  both.  I  am.  willing  in  the 
future  to  grant  you  any  measure  of  respect  to  which  you  can  estab- 
lish any  claim,  but  I  tell  you  now  that  such  references  to  the  past 
are  neither  pleasurable  nor  profitable,  and  I  should  think  you  would 
hesitate  to  make  them.  If  we  •were  to  compare  recollections  of  the 
past,  I  might  possibly  recall  some  which  you  would  be  more  sur- 
prised than  gratified  to  hear ;  so  if  you  derive  any  pleasure  from 
recalling  the  persecutions  you  used  to  inflict  on  me  during  my  de- 
fenceless, miserable  boyhood,  just  enjoy  it  silently,  being  assured 
that  you  will  never  again  possess  such  power  over  me.  Thank 
Heaven,  I  am  beyond  your  reach  forever  !" 

"  Lisle,  Lisle,"  interrupted  Mr.  Sterling, "  stop — you  are  saying 
too  much.  Remember  she  is  your  mother,  and  you  should  respect  if 
you  do  not  love  her !  She  has  been  a  careful  mother,  a  good  wife, 
and  a  hard-working  woman  always,  and  I  want  you  to  know  that 
/respect  her,  if  you  don't."  The  old  man  looked  really  noble  as  ho 
thus  defended  his  wife,  laying  his  large,  coarse  hand  protectingly 
upon  her  shoulder ;  and,  deeply  touched  by  the  scene,  Lisle  turned 
and  went  out,  hardly  knowing  whether  he  most  admired  or  pitied 
the  trasting  old  man  who  thus  raised  his  voice  in  testimony  for  the 
woman,  half  of  whose  life  had  been  one  gross  deception  toward  him. 
She  followed  him  to  the  door,  and  called  after  him. 

"Lisle,  you'll  come  again,  won't  you?  If  you're  above  staying  in 
your  own  old  home,  and  dospise  your  mother,  It  ain't  right  of  you  to 
despise  your  father;  and  he  feels  it." 

"  Stop  right  there,  mother.  For  you  I  have  nothing  to  say ;  but 
I  never  for  one  moment  despLsed  my  father,  and  he  should  know  it. 
Good-bye,  father,  and  if  I  do  not  come  as  often  as  you  think  I  ough-1-, 
do  not  construe  my  absence  as  a  want  of  respect  and  regard  for  you. 
I  wish  the  world  were  one-half  as  honest  and  true." 

Mr.  Sterling  walked  with  him  to  the  gate,  and  said,  kindly, 

"  I  am  sorry  this  happened  to-day,  my  son.  Your  mother  is  get- 
ting on  hi  years,  and  hain't  the  mind  she  used  to  have.  I  know  she 
never  loved  you  very  well ;  but  I  always  did,  my  aon,  and  I  do  now. 


9G  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

If  it  is  wrong  to  love  one  child  better  than  another,  I  confess  I  do 
wrong,  and  I  don't  feel  ashamed  of  it,  when  I  say  you  are  more  to 
me  than  all  the  others.  Come  into  the  mill  when  you  want  to  see 
me,  if  you  don't  like  coming  to  the  house ;  and,  my  son,  let  by-gones 
be  by-goues  as  much  as  you  can  towards  your  mother.  Won't  you 
come  again  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  will  come  to  see  you.  I  wish,  too,  that  all  this  had  not 
happened  to-day ;  but  her  taunts  called  up  so  much  that  was  un- 
bearable,— injustic,  abuse, — everything  pertaining  to  those  wretched 
years,  of  which  you  never  knew  the  half!  Good-bye,  father,  I'll  sec 
you  again  in  a  few  days." 

Edward  came  up  from  the  mill  when  he  saw  the  good-byes  were 
being  spoken,  and  making  his  own,  briefly,  the  two  brothers  turned 
town  ward,  in  a  silence  which  neither  felt  inclined  to  break. 

"  Whew ! "  exclaimed  Edward  at  last.  "Our--  3  a  curious 
family  1" 

"  I  don't  know ;  most  families  might  be  pronounced  '  curious,'  for 
that  matter.  If  most  family  history  were  known,  the  world  would 
be  startled  and  astonished.  It  is  only  a  matter  of  curiosity,  th:;t 
bad,  weak  women,  manifestly  their  husband's  inferiors,  acquire  such 
an  amount  of  influence  over  them.  It's  only  to  be  accounted  for, 
that  it  grows  up  little  by  little,  under  a  man's  yielding  point  by 
point  to  avoid  a  row.  What  commences  in  righteous  hypocrisy, 
grows  into  a  settled  habit." 

"  My  opinion  is,  that  the  sillier  a  feminine  is,  and  the  more  un- 
bearably '  good?  the  worse  she  is  to  live  with.  Such  women  are  the 
devil  on  husbands." 

"Most  are,  I  suppose.  The  only  safe  way  for  a  man,  is  to  steer 
clear  of  them,  and  preserve  his  virtue  and  dignity.  He's  in  the 
position  of  '  Dog  Tray,' — if  he  doesn't  merit  correction  in  the  first 
instance,  bad  company  will  soon  bring  him  to  it.  It  was  a  great 
111  >take  to  get  out  a  supplementary  edition  to  father  Adam,  an  1  tiio 
second  error,  like  unto  it,  was  having  Mrs.  Noah  and  her  daughters- 
in-law  survive  their  incarceration  and  family  bickerings  in  the  Ark. 
I  don't  envy  Noah  and  the  boys  the  time  they  must  have  had  of  it, 
Inwever  the  old  lady  and  the  girls  were  edified;  my  way  would 
have  been  to  leave  Mrs.  Noah  at  home." 

"  Why,  I've  yet  to  learn  that  the  old  lady  committed  any  farther 
mischief  in  the  way  of  posterity.  Better  to  have  left  the  girls," 
laughed  Edward.  "Do  tell  me  what  makes  you  such  a  woman- 
hater,  Lisle  ? " 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  97 

"  Oil,  I'm  not,  but  I  don't  care  to  callous  my  knees  in  their  ser- 
vice, need  I ? " 

"  We'll,  I'll  venture  you  never  kne'jl  very  extensively.  Some  one 
has  turned  your  vein  of  gallantry,  into  a  circulator  of  pure  aqua- 
fortis." 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  should  be  '  some  one.'  I  never  yet  saw  the 
woman  I'd  like  to  pin  to  the  skirts  of  my  robe  of  responsibility. 
I've  pitied  that  poor  old  man  up  at  the  mill  too  many  years,  to  wish 
myself  possibly  in  the  same  position.  Women,  during  the  first 
twenty  years  of  their  existence,  are  rather  ornamental  than  other- 
wise, but  they  make  a  fellow  pay  dearly  for  his  admiration,  when 
they  come  to  spin  off  the  next  twenty.  One  doesn't  require  to  have 
suffered  in  proper  person,  to  know  all  this.  '  He  who  hath  eyes  to 
see,  let  him  see.'  " 

Edward  made  no  reply,  and  the  doctor's  gate  was  reached  in  si- 
lence. Mi  s.  Kelley  was  looking  for  their  arrival. 

"  There,  at  least,  is  a  good  woman,"  said  Edward  warmly. 

"  Yes,  she  is ;  and  for  her  sake  I  accept  Julie  at  your  estimate  of 
her.  Such  a  mother  cannot  have  a  very  unworthy  daughter,  and 
Julie  certainly  is  as  good  as  she  is  artless.  If  she  hasn't  too  much 
will,  all  the  better ;  and  so  let  us  drop  the  subject.'1 

Dropped  it  was,  so  thoroughly,  that  it  soon  seemed  forgotten,  and 
Lisle  sought  her  companionship  during  every  leisure  hour,  with  a 
persistency  which  led  Edward  to  believe  that  he  was  "  admiring  the 
ornamental,"  without  due  regard  for  the  future  penalty,  however 
wisely  he  had  talked  of  it. 


98  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  last  days  of  May  drew  to  their  close,  and  Lisle  sat  in  the  doc- 
tor's library  absently  turning  the  leaves  of  a  volume  he  had  long 
ceased  to  read.  The  waning  daylight  lingered  just  sufficiently  to 
cast  gloomy  shadows  around  the  objects  to  which  it  was  bidding 
farewell,  and  the  chill  in  the  lingering  spring  atmosphere  added  to 
the  sense  of  discomfort  which  mocked  his  philosophy.  A  few  faintly 
tinted  flowers  filled  a  vase  upon  the  table,  striving  in  vain  to  look  as 
if  any  invigorating  warmth  had  ever  breathed  upon  them,  and  seem- 
ingly repressing  t  he  shivering  provoked  by  so  many  hours  standing 
in  cold  water.  Their  evident  struggle  to  keep  up  appearances  was 
more  depressing  to  witness  than  their  entire  absence ;  and  seizing 
the  vase,  he  tossed  its  whole  contents  into  the  open  grate.  He  was 
in  a  gloomy,  not  to  say  irritable  humor,  of  which  he  was  ashamed, 
without  really  possessing  the  power  to  banish  it,  and  sensible  that 
he  was  no  congenial  companion  for  others,  he  had  shut  himself  up 
alone,  ho;  im:  that  in  time  a  counter  current  would  set  in  upon  his 
menial  channel.  Evidently  it  was  at  low-water  mark  yet,  as  only 
the  most  gloomy  and  unh-ippy  musings  occupied  him. 

"Yes.  an  interloper — worse  than  that,  a  hypocrite" — he  thought 
impatiently,  tossing  aside  the  book  with  which  ho  h-ul  been  uncon- 
sciously toying.  tl  How  long  can  I  go  on  in  this  way,  when  every 
hour,  did  people  rightly  read  it,  gives  some  convincing  proof  that  I 
am  not  what  I  seem,  that  I  have  no  right  under  this  roof— no,  nor 
any  other — and  every  proof  of  affection  I  receive  from  Mr?.  Kelley  is 
so  much  more  in  the  balance  against  me.  God  pity  a  life  dragged 
out  under  such  a  curse  as  mine  !  Even  to  that  poor  old  man  up  at 
the  mill  I  am  a  hypocrite  !  Every  lime  I  cdl  him  '  father  '  rny  con- 
science rises  up  in  protest,  and  hi^  openly  declared  preference  for 
me  beyond  his  own  children,  pierces  me  like  a  dagger.  Yet  I  am 
tied,  tied  !  bound  hand  and  loot.  Good  Heavens!  what  must  my 
real  father  have  suffered,  sin  thering  this  plague-spot  in  his  hi  art 
through  all  these  years  1" 


THE  nOUSE  BBHIND  THE  POPLAES.  99 

The  question  was  not  without  some  alleviating  effect,  as  it  turned 
Ms  thoughts  into  a  softer  channel,  and  as  compassion  took  the  place 
of  bitterness,  his  brow  cleared  and  a  tender  melancholy  beamed  from 
his  eyes. 

He  did  not  hear  the  door  so  gently  opened  behind  him,  nor  the 
footsteps  which  after  a  momentary  hesitation  advanced  to  his  side, 
and  it  was  only  when  a  soft  warm  hand  was  pressed  over  his  eyes, 
that  he  knew  any  one  had  entered.  He  was  in  no  mood  for  play, 
and  taking  the  hand  whicli  obscured  his  vision,  he  led  its  possessor 
to  a  seat  beside  him,  and  looked  in  her  face  with  a  serious,  troubled 
gnze  under  which  Julie  looked  up  in  wonder. 

"  What  ails  you,  Lisle  ?  You  haven't  been  like  yourself  all  day. 
What  troubles  you  ?" 

"  Nothing  which  you  can  help,"  he  said  with  a  sigh,  and  turned 
away  his  face  that  she  might  not  read  its  troubled  lines.  His  voice 
was  sad,  but  not  repelling,  and  stepping  behind  his  chair  she  turned 
his  face  up  toward  her  own  and  shook  one  raised  finger  at  him 
warningly. 

"  Now,  Lisle,  don't  be  gloomy  !  You  don't  know  how  much  we 
all  love  you,  or  you  would  be  happy ;  for  doesn't  love  make  happi- 
ness?" 

"  I  can't  say.    I  have  known  too  little  of  it  to  tell  by  experience." 

"  Is  it  '  little?  all  this  we  all  of  us  feel  for  you  ?  Don't  you  remem- 
ber how  we  loved  each  other  when  we  were  children — at  least  I 
loved  you,  and  you  knew  it,  then,  and  didn't  think  it  'little.'  And 
how  good  you  were  to  me,  never  scolding  me  for  anything — except- 
ing niy  maternal  partiality," — she  added  with  a  smile.  "  Do  you 
recollect  all  that'r"' 

"  I  was  a  boy  then,  and  you  liked  me  because  I  protected  your 
doll  babies." 

"  Now,  Lisle,  I  won't  endure  that !  It  isn't  f  iir.  You  are  so  hor- 
ridly suspicious  and  distrustful,  that  I  wonder  sometimes  if  you 
don't  doubt  the  reality  of  your  own  existence." 

"  Seriously,  then,  I  sometimes  really  do;  and  I  only  wish  the 
doubt  would  resolve  itself  into  a  certainty." 

"  And,  pray,  Sir  Misty,  what  and  where  are  you  when  you  don't 
exist  exactly  to  your  own  satisfaction  ? " 

"  A  pebble  in  a  stream,  a  stone  by  the  wayside,  or  a  block  of 
marble." 

"  Always  stone  and  cold.    That  at  least  is  in  character.  '•  But 


100  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

what  'do  you  think  of  yourself  as  such,  for  of  course  you  indulge  in. 
reflections  ? "  i 

"  I  wonder  why  I  give  myself  so  much  trouble  and  vexation  about 
a  world  in  which  I  am  only  an  insensate  bit  of  'primary,'  and  why 
I  am  cursed  with  an  idea  that  I '  live,  move,  and  have  a  being ;' 
and  then  I  hope,  in  a  dreary  way,  that  some  revolution  of  nature 
will  throw  me  out  of  my  present  sphere,  and  satisfactorily  convince 
me  that  I  am  a  stone,  and  thus  forever  set  my  doubts  of  even  that' 
at  rest." 

"  This  literally  '  beats  the  Dutch!'  I  have  heard  and  read  some- 
thing of  German  philosophy,  and  mystification  upon  scientific  prin- 
ciples ;  but  I  never  before  saw  a  walking  epitome  of  it  all.  Seri- 
ously, Lisle,  what  ails  you  ?" 

"  Chronic  morbidness." 

" But  springing  from  what  cause?  You,  of  all  others,  seem  to 
have  so  little  to  give  you  an  hour's  (rouble.  Master  of  your  own 
actions  at  an  age  when  others  are  scarcely  out  of  leading-strings, 
favorite  nephew,  if  not  heir,  of  an  uncle  who  must  love  you  or  he 
wouldn't  have  done  so  much  for  you,  well  located  in  business ;  and, 
not  the  least  of  all  blessings,  young,  talented,  and  handsome. 
There!" 

"  Julie,  I  am  too  much  out  of  sorts  to  bow  in  acknowledgment, 
as  I  ought.  I  willingly  admit  that  I  am  blessed  in  many  of  the  re- 
spects you  enumerate,  nor  am  I  sufficiently  egotistical  to  imagine 
that  I  alone  of  all  the  world  have  troubles  worthy  the  name ;  but  I 
only  wish  I  could  exchange  with  most  any  one  long  enough  to  get 
a  breathing  spell.  If  I  could  only  get  my  burden  off  my  brain  for 
one  blessed  hour,  I  would  try  and  trudge  on  with  it  cheerfully  for- 
ever nfter." 

"I  imagine  you  would  plod  on  with  any  other  life  trouble  pretty 
much  as  you  do  with  your  present  especial.  I'm  not  verse  1  in  the 
matter,  but  I  don't  believe  any  one  was  ever  yet  convinced  that  his 
own  was  the  easiest  of  all  possible  ones  to  bear." 
,  "  Very  likely.  But,  Julie,  I'm  in  no  humor  for  a  fair  argument 
Ito-night,  and  I  am  too  savage  for  any  one's  society  but  my  own." 

"  Are  you  savage  toward  me  ?" 

"Yes,  I'm  afraid  so.  I  don't  feel  myself  a  distinguisher  of  persons 
to-day ;  and  I  don't  wish  in  one  bad  hour  to  sacrifice  all  my  pre- 
vious efforts  to  make  you  think  me  not  quite  a  bear.'' 

41 1  don't,  and  I  shan't.    Swear,  now,  if  it  will  relieve  you — dou't 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  TOPLAflS,  101 

mind  me,  for  I  heard  father  once.  If  you  once  burst  out,  or  break 
something,  it  will  make  you  feel  better  directly." 

She  looked  perfectly  in  earnest  with  this  advice,  and  quickly 
alive  to  anything  approaching  the  ludicrous,  he  stopped  and 
laughed. 

"  There,  that  answers  the  same  purpose,  doesn't  it  ?"  he  asked, 
"  and  now  that  I'm  ready  to  be  entertained,  how  do  you  propose  to 
do  it  $"' 

"  As  ladies  usually  entertain  sick  people — tell  you  all  the  symp- 
toms of  '  brother's  last  illness,'  or  how  '  sister-in-law  was  laid  out,' 
etc.,  or  any  other  funeral-baked  history  calculated  to  cheer  your 
spirits." 

"  No,  thank  you.  I'd  rather  hear  all  the  little  things  that  have 
been  happening  during  these  years  of  my  absence.  I  haven't  been 
'  talked  up '  in  them  at  all." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  commence  with  myself.  You  left  me  crying  at 
this  very  table,  do  you  remember  ?  Well,  I  shall  never  cry  for  you 
again,  nor  for  any  one  else;  for  the  more  people,  especially  the  mas- 
culine half  of  them,  are  cried"  for,  the  sooner  they  forget  you.  I 
recollect  that  when  you  never  sent  me  any  messages,  I  wanted  to  die, 
so  that  you  should  feel  very  sorry  for  your  neglect ;  and,  failing  iu 
the  performance  of  that  melancholy  feat,  I  used  to  imagine  it  as  hap- 
pening, and  I  breathed  iny  last  with  a  reproachful  message  for  you, 
and  attended  my  funeral,  and  returned  with  the  mourners  to  the 
desolate  house,  in  a  munuer  very  beautiful  and  affecting — to  myself 
— to  imagine. 

"Ed  used  to  form  plans  how  we  two  were  to  run  away  in  sad 
companionship,  from  the  scenes  you  had  deserted  ;  but  I  didn't  take 
as  kindly  to  the  scheme  as  he  did,  though  I  maintained  the  promised 
secrecy,  till  once  he  really  did  start  off  alone,  long  after  I  supposed 
he  had  given  up  the  idea,  and  it  was  not  till  f.ither  came  home  from 
there  one  day,  and  told  how  alarmed  the  Sterlings  were  at  his  dis- 
appearance, that  I  broke  my  promise.  I  was  in  screaming  horror 
lest  he  might  die  by  the  wayside,  and  I  recollect  dancing  up  and 
down  in  a  frenzy,  at  the  slownsss  of  the  boy  who  at  last  got  father's 
horse  nil  harnessed,  when  away  he  went  over  the  hills  like  mad. 

"  Eddy  hadn't  many  hours  the  start,  and  was  overtaken  trudging 
manfully  along  with  a  stick  across  his  shoulder,  at  the  end  of  which 
he  had  a  few  clothes  tied  up  in  an  apron  of  his  mother's, — I  suppose 
his  little  old*  shirt-made  handkerchiefs,  were  too  small  for  his  ward- 
robe,— as  veritable  a  '  tramp  '  as  qycr  lived !  Father  thought  it 


102  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

best  not  to.notice  him  at  fiist,  and  drove  past ;  but  Ed  called  out  to 
him  to  '  give  him  a  lift  if  he  were  going  his  way,'  aud  father  took 
him  in  as  innocently  as  needful,  since  Ed  kept  a  sharp  eye  upon 
him.  So  they  drove  on  awhile  till  they  came  to  a  road  leading  back 
toward  home,  which  Ed  didn't  know,  and  as  they  came  down  it 
father  got  him  to  tell  the  story  of  his  wrongs,  which  was  that  his 
mother  was  '  a  nasty,  mean  woman,  who  didnt  give  him  any  com- 
fort, and  had  driven  you  away  and  got  Pompey  shot,' and  his  father 
was  'an  old  stingy,  who  nrido  him  go  raggeder  than  ever,  now,'  and 
he  had  concluded  to  cut  their  acquaintance,  and  go  out  to  Toledo 
and  work  on  the  can  il, — an  idea  that  he  seemed  to  have  fallen  heir 
to  when  you  resigned  it.  Father  always  did  feel  sorry  for  you  boys, 
you  know,  and  he  finally  persuaded  him  that  he  had  better  come 
back  and  study  with  him,  and  by-and-bye  come  out  an  M.  D.,  to 
which  I.  D.  he  cordially  consented,  and  they  drove  home  upon  the 
best  terms  with  each  other.  Ed  made  his  own  terms  about  remain- 
ing in  his  native  town,  and  has  lived  with  us  nearly  ever  since." 

"  Yes,  and  the  doctor  is  helping  him  even  to  lectures.  How  much 
he  has  done  for  him,  and  your  mother,  too." 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing  ;  but  ma  did  get  vexed  with  him  sometimes, 
and  no  wonder.  She  noticed  the  old  cat  getting  thinner  and 
thinner,  and  so  weak  she  could  but  just  walk ;  and  she  couldn't  im- 
agine what  ailed  her,  till  she  fairly  caught  him  with  the  lancet  in 
his  fingers  during  a  bleeding  operation,  after  which  he  'proceeded 
in  the  usual  manner,'  as  he  affirmed  when  ma  demanded  explana- 
tions. Of  course  there  was  a  stop  put  upon  this ;  and  then  he  went 
to  practising  upon  the  old  rooster,  relative  to  whose  adipose  tissue, 
tendons,  and  jugular  veins,  he  delivered  me  a  very  learned  lecture, 
which,  as  old  'Mahomet'  was  a  pet  of  mine,  I  didn't  duly  appre- 
ciate, and  our  first  real  quarrel  arose  from  my  complaining  about  it 
to  father ;  and  he  said  thus  depriving  him  of  much  useful  informa- 
t:on,  for  which  humanity  would  some  time  inevitably  suffer,  whether 
because  he  lacked  this  information,  or  practised  upon  them  to 
obtain  it,  I  don't  know ;  but  if  people  call  a  doctor,  1ft  them  take 
the  consequences.  Old  '  Mahomet '  hadn't,  and  I  rescued  him." 

They  were  both  laughing  as  they  walked  the  floor,  now  socially 
arm  in  arm,  unheeding  the  darkness  setting  in  upon  the  long  strug- 
gling twilight,  when  Mrs.  Kelley  opened  the  door,  having  vainly 
sought  Lisle  elsewhere  in  response  to  the  doctor's  frequent  inquiries 
for  him. 

'•  How  selfish  I  have  been.    I  had  no  idea  time  had  passed  so 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  103 

rapidly !"  exclaimed  Lisle,  in  self-reproach,  hnstening  at  once  to  the 
doctor's  room. 

Mrs.  Kelley  arrived  suddenly  at  a  conclusion  ;  and  unquestioning 
ifs  correctness,  gave  expression  to  it  at  once,  as  laying  her  gentle 
hand  upon  her  daughter's  head,  she  said,  softly, 

"  I  think  I  understand,  Julie,  and  it  may  be  a  pleasure  for  you  to 
know  that  I  have  always  hoped  for  this.  Lisle  was  always  my 
favorite,  and  from  loving  him  as  a  son,  I  can  very  easily  call  him 
one:"  And  without  wailing  for  a  ivply,  she  passed  on.  . 

Left  by  herself,  Julie  first  paused  in  astonishment,  then  the  color 
spread  over  her  neck  and  brow  at  her  mother's  suggestion.  Till 
this  moment  it  bad  never  occurred  to  her  that  Lisle  regarded  her 
in  any  other  light  than  that  of  an  old  playmate  and  pleasant  com- 
panion. Even  now,  nothing  he  had  said  confirmed  the  idea  at  this 
moment  awakened,  but  his  manner — had  he  not  sought  her  constant 
companionship  of  late,  preferring  it  even  to  his  brother's — mani- 
fested a  ceaseless  interest  in  all  her  occupations  and  ambitions — and 
even  to-day  implied  a  doubt  of  the  truth  and  strength  of  her  con- 
fessed affection  for  him  through  so  many  years,  by  accusing  her  of 
having  liked  him  from  interested  motives  as  a  child — as  if  he  ques- 
tioned whether  she  really  liked  him  now  from  any.  The  more  she 
thought  upon  it  all,  the  stronger  seemed  the  probability  that  her 
mother  had  been  more  clear-sighted  than  she  herself;  and  she  ac- 
knowledged it  with  a  little  fluttering  of  the  heart  which  certainly 
did  not  spring  from  a  spirit  of  indifference. 

A  young  lady  of  sixteen  readily  convinces  herself  that  she  loves  in 
return  whoever  loves  her ;  and  it  makers  little  whether  this  affection 
is  real  or  imaginary,  so  long  as  she  believes  in  its  existence.  Julie  be- 
lieved that  it  did  exist,  and  her  own  sprang  into  bloom  as  if  by  magic. 
Lisle  did  not  come  down  to  tea,  but  Edward  noted  her  heightened 
color  and  brilliant  eyes,  and  did  not  fail  to  connect  them  with  the 
twilight  interview  in  the  library,  from  which  he  drew  his  own  con- 
clusions, as  Mrs.  Kelley  had  done. 

Nothing  of  this  was  suspected  by  Lisle  himself,  and  though  he 
observed  a  more  confidential  tenderness  in  Mrs.  Kelley's  manner 
toward  him,  he  was  far  from  understanding  it,  and  attributed  it  only 
to  her  sympathy  under  his  evident  gloom,  which  no  efforls  that  day 
had  been  able  to  conquer  or  conceal. 

Dr.  Kelley  passed  a  restless  night,  and  having  fallen  asleep  at  last 
just  as  day  dawned,  Lisle  stole  out  for  rest  and  fresh  air,  just  as 
Edward  went  into  the  office.  He  fancied  that  his  brother's  salutation 


104  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

was  cool,  and,  determined  (o  make  a  fin  d  efforl  to  break  down  the 
invisible  ban  ier  between  them,  he  followed  him  in,  and  drew  a  ch;iir 
near  the  table  at  which  Edward  moodily  seated  himself,  lie  looked 
anything  but  genial,  and  Lisle  hesitated  for  a  moment,  uncer  tain- 
how  to  approach  him  in  his  present  humor,  and  for  the  instant  he 
resolved  to  go  away  from  him  and  let  the  estrangement,  if  such  it 
really  were,  take  its  natural  course.  But  second  thought  restrained 
him,  and  casting  away  all  thought  of  diplomacy,  he  asked  abruptly, 

"  Edward,  what  is  the  in  itter  between  us  ?" 

"Nothing  worth  mentioning,"  replied  Edward  as  abruptly. 

"  Yes,  there  is  something,  and  I  want  to  know  what  it  is.  We 
have  not  been  just  as  we  should  be,  any  of  the  tune  since  my  return 
here,  and  if  I  am  in  any  way  responsible  for  it,  I  shall  try  to  rcct  fy 
it.  I  have  too  few  friends  in  this  worl  I  to  be  willing  to  lose  the 
oldest  and  dearest  among  them  without  an  effort  to  retain  him." 

"  I  don't  see  that  you  are  particul  irly  calculated  to  awaken  confi- 
dence, or  to  retain  it ;  or  why  you  should  expect  others  to  be  more 
steadfast  and  unselfish  than  yourself,"  replied  Edward  in  a  tone  that 
betrayed  how  much  the  unkind  woids  cost  him,  determined  as  he 
was  to  speak  them. 

"  Ed,  I  insist  that  you  are  unkind  and  unjust !  I  know  that  I  am 
not  as  winning  as  many,  and  that  I  make  few  friends;  but  this  is 
my  misfortune,  and  I  have  not  deserved  to  be  taunted  with  it  by  you, 
of  all  the  world !  I  am  steadfast  in  my  friendships  where  they  once 
exist,  and  God  knows  I  am  incapable  of  being  selfish  toward  yon, 
whatever  you  may  think  me  towards  others.  There  hss  never  been 
an  hour  in  my  life  when  I  would  not  willingly  have  died  for  you, 
could  such  an  act  in  any  way  benefit  you." 

Edward  turned  suddenly  in  his  chair,  and  faced  him. 

"Lisle,  I  believe  I  am  a  brute  !  My  '  Fitzjaines  temper'  has  al- 
ways been  a  curse  to  me,  and  it  isn't  in  me  to  be  gentle  and  sensitive 
like  you.  All  my  sensations  are  trubulent  ones,  I  believe.  I'm  sure 
I  don't  know  what  it  was  that  first  rose  up  between  us  two ;  I  sup- 
pose it  was  only  the  result  of  our  being  separated  and  differently 
brought  up.  I  didn't  begin  to  see  the  extent  of  this  wall  of  con- 
straint, till  you  came  back;  and  then  your  changed  and  dignified 
appearance — so  different  from  what  I  had  ever  known  you — only 
made  the  matter  worse,  and  I  couldn't  get  near  you.  Your  experi- 
ence in  life  has  made  you  a  polished  gentlcimn,  while  I  am  the  same 
country-bred  boy  ;  you  have  the  air  of  one  who  knows  his  own  placo 
in  the  world,  and  is  sensible  of  filling  it  creditably,  while  I  am  a 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  105 

doctor's  student,  by  the  charity  of  one  upon  whom  I  have  no  earthly 
claim.  You  may  think  these  consideiatious  should  have  no  effect 
between  two  brothers  born  into  the  hard  luck  we  were,  but  if  we 
could  exchange  places  a  minute,  you'd  feel  it  as  I  do.  It  all  the  time 
seemed  to  me  that  you  might  put  affairs  straight  between  us  if  you 
chose — though  just  now  I  don't  see  how — and  I  came  to  believe  you 
rather  fancied  being  looked  upon  as  one  afar  off.  But  there  is  an- 
other cause  for  my  feeling  really  unkindly  towards  you,  and  you 
must  know  it.''  , 

'•  No,  I  do  assure  you  I  can't  imagine  it.  Go  on  as  plainly  as  you 
please.  Don't  stop  to  choose  words." 

"I  admit,  to  begin  with,  that  I  have  no  right  to  complain, nor  do 
I  of  anything  except  that  you  did  not  deal  frankly  with  me.  Know- 
ing what  you  did,  you  owed  me  candor,  at  least.  I  don't  ask  now 
to  be  made  a  confidant  in  your  love  affair ;  but  when  I  recall  the 
terms  in  which  you  spoke  of  Julie  while  expressing  your  opinion  of 
her  whole  sex,  I  do  think  you  were  neither  truthful  nor  honorable, 
since  it  isn't  supposable  that  your  feelings  towards  her  have  under- 
gone any  extensive  revolution.  I  thought  then  there  was  an  un- 
derstanding between  you,  and  now  I  know  it ;  but  of  course  it's 
none  of  my  business.  Tm  nobody's  heir — unless  being  the  recipient 
of  her  father's  charity  makes  me  one — and  I  can't  expect  to  be  no- 
ticed by  her." 

"For  heaven's  sake,  Edward,  what  do  you  mean  ?     Speak  out !" 

"  Just  what  I'm  doing,  I  think.  I  can't  well  think  of  it  without 
performing  just  that  ceremony.  If  I  abuse  you,  '  don't  take  any 
pride  in  what  I  say,'  as  boys  caution  one  another  upon  like  oc- 
casions.'' 

"  Edward,  if  any  woman  the  sun  shines  on  stands  between  you 
and  me,  out  with  her  ;  but  if  it  is  little  Julie  Kelley  for  whom  you 
are  cherishing  this  delusion,  do  tell  me  how  I  have  anything  to  do 
with  it." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  don't  wish  to  marry  her  yourse'f?" 

"  I !  How  utterly  impossible !  Y#u  don't  know  what  you  are 
tilking." 

His  look  of  pain  and  surprise  was  too  genuine  to  be  doubted, 
rm  1  Edward  felt  so  at  once,  as  he  exclaimed,  impulsively, 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't.  Do  kick  some  common  sense  into  me.  I 
should  feel  the  better  for  a  good  Christian  kick  or  two  from  you  just 
now.  But,  Lisle,  if  you  knew  how  I  have  loved  her  all  the^e  years, 
and  how  I  am  forever  hoping  that  some  day  I  shall  come  to  sonic- 


106  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLA.BS. 

thing  worth  noticing,  and  be  noticed  by  her  ;  for  it  hasn't  come  to 
marrying  yet,  und  I  don't  suppose  ever  would.  People  may  laugh 
about '  puppy  love,'  and  I  suppose  you  think  I've  got  it.  "Well, 
perhnps  I  have  ;  but  it's  hard,  nevertheless,  to  see  some  one,  par- 
ticularly a  brother,  carry  her  off  any  way.  Money  and  position 
make  you  matrimonially  eligible,  while  I,  not  two  years  younger, 
ani  but  a  boy." 

"  What  ever  gave  you  the  idea  that  I  wish  to  marry  ?  Heaven 
forbid  1" 

"  I  got  it  from  pretty  near  the  fountain  head,  I  assure  you,  since 
it  was  from  Mrs.  Kelley  herself,  though  she  didn't  intend  to  say 
anything,  as  you  may  be  sure,  knowing  her  as  you  do.  I  know  she 
thinks  so,  and  if  Julie  isn't  entertaining  the  same  delusion,  I'm  mis- 
taken. I  don't  see  how  you  can  avoid  reading  what  stands  out  as 
clearly  as  print.  How  is  it  you  didn't  suspect  it  V 

"  Because  I  never  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing.  Ifc 
is  really  dreadful !" 

Edward  laughed.  "  I  don't  see  it  in  that  light.  However,  since 
you  thus  quake  at  the  idea,  I  suppose  I  may  rest  in  peace,  notwith- 
standing the  uncomplimentary  phrase  used  in  connection  with  the 
fair  Julie." 

Lisle  was  in  no  humor  for  jesting,  and  after  a  moment  of  painful 
silence,  he  said, 

"  Don't  willully  pervert  my  remarks,  Edward,  but  understand 
me  for  all  time,  when  I  say  that  much  as  I  like  Julie  upon  farther 
acquaintance  (I  know  I  insinuated  that  she  was  silly,  but  I  retract 
it  now),  she  is  the  best  living  woman  I  should  ever  think  of  as  other 
than  a — sister — and  nothing  could  so  pain  me,  as  that  she  should 
ever  care  for  me  beyond  a  mere  brother.  It  would  be  the  worst  pos- 
sible misfortune  that  could  befall  her  or  me  !" 

"  Well,  Lisle,  I  believe  you,  and  I  will  do  so ;  though  how  any 
man  not  actually  her  brother,  can  r>rerer  that  position  towards  her, 
is  more  than  I  can  understand.  You  always  were  a  strange  fellow, 
though !  Only  tell  me  now,  that  you  forgive  all  my  hard  words  and 
injustice  toward  you,  and  I  sh  ill  be  happier  than  I've  been  since 
they  crowded  their  company  upon  me." 

"  I  ctTtuin'y  do.  I  am  only  too  well  satisfied  with  anything  which 
may  have  led  to  this  explanation  between  us.  Do,  once  for  all,  put 
aside  all  these  compnmons  and  unjust  considerations,  regarding  any 
of  my  supposed  advantages  over  yourself,  and  let  us  be  once  more 
Irothtrs.  You  speak  so  bitt  rly  of  being  an  object  of  charity,  what 


THE   HOUSE  BEHIND   THE"  POPLARS.  107 

else  have  1  been  all  these  years  ?  Dr.  Kell<-y  has  done  no  more  for 
you  than  uncle  has  for  me,  I  don't  see  in  what  I  can  possibly  claim 
any  advantage  over  you." 

"Bother!  Yes  you  can,  and  so  do  others.  However,  one  enu- 
meration is  enough ;  and  you've  established  a  claim  upon  another 
this  hour.  Had  you,  or  any  one  else,  '  let  into  me '  as  I  did  to  you( 
this  morning,  I  wouldn't  have  explained  nor  pardoned  him,  till  tho 
crack  of  doom !  You  deserve  all  the  good  luck  you  are  heir  to ; 
that's  one  consolation !  But  Lisle,  if  you  think  I  have  seen  more 
than  exists,  keep  your  own  eyes  open  for  awhile,  and  you'll  see  it, 
too.  It's  as  plain  as  poverty  on  a  debtor's  face.  I  don't  look  out 
of  green  eyes,  as  you'll  soon  see." 

In  obedience  to  the  injunction,  Lisle  did  observe  Mrs.  Kelley  and 
Julie  more  closely  than  he  had  yet  done,  and  either  he  had  been 
most  obtuse,  or  indications  of  their  belief  in  the  character  of  his  at- 
tentions were  more  open  and  marked  than  they  had  been  any  time 
before.  Julie  manifested  a  tender  consciousness  under  his  every 
word  and  glance,  which  he  had  never  seen  in  her  manner  till  that 
day,  natur.il  expression  as  it  was  of  her  new  conviction  concerning 
him.  Edward  saw  that  it  was  noted  by  Lisle,  with  something  like 
real  pain;  and  as  they  strolled  out  together  in  the  twilight,  he 
looked  up  at  him  inquiringly.  Not  a  word  had  been  spoken  upon 
the  subject  since  the  morning's  conversation  in  the  office,  but  Lisle 
knew  the  burden  of  that  questioning  glance,  and  answered  to  it 
frankly. 

"  I  believe  your  suspicions  were  correct,  Ed,  though  it  is  the 
strangest  fact  ever  forced  upon  me.  There  is  just  this  consolation 
for  us  all,  these  sixteen  years'  old  impressions  are  fleeting.  It 
seems  as  though  girls  of  that  age  are  ready  primed  and  loaded  with 
sentimental  epidemics,  from  '  eternal  constancy,'  down  to  '  early 
deaths !'  Ther'e  never  was  one  free  from  the  whole  category." 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  ridicule  it  in  general ;  but  this  case, 
of  all  others,  is  anything  but  laughable  to  me.  I  was  impatient 
enough  for  Julie's  arrival  from  school,  I  can  tell  you,  and  when  it 
was  decided  to  send  for  her  upon  account  of  the  doctor's  illness,  I 
hurried  out  to  New  York  for  her.  The  seminary  was  a  regular 
young  lady  manufactory,  it  seemed  to  me,  and  my  I  didn't  they  each 
and  all  stare  as  if  they  didn't  expect  to  see  a  young  gentleman  again 
till  the  end  of  the  course, — for  it's  a  regular  three  years  affair.  Julie 
introduced  me  to  several  of  her  friends,  pale,  round-eyed  young 
fcminines,  with  the  usual  eomp'aint  of  starvation  become  chronic. 


108  THE   HOUSE    BEHIND   TIIK   POPLAJJS. 

That  didn't  matter  so  much,  for  young  ladies  always  cat  like  turkry 
buzzards,  it  seems  to  me  ;  but  they  forgot  even  their  stomachs  when 
we  got  ready  to  leave,  and  the-  way  they  cried  was  at  once  aggra- 
vating and  gratifying.  Julie  was  the  only  sensible  one  among  them, 
and  if  1  hadn't  been  in  a  bad  enough  way  about  her  before,  I  should 
have  been  then.  I  brought  her  home  just  a  week  before  you  arrived, 
and  this  is  the  way  I'm  repaid  for  it  all." 

"  Will  she  go  back  to  the  seminary  for  the  remaining  two  years  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  The  doctor  intended  her  to  have  gone  through 
the  whole  course,  and  I  presume  Mrs.  Kelley  will  carry  out  his  wishes, 
however  much  she  may  miss  her  if  left  alone.  But  for  her  father's 
illness  we  should  not  have  seen  her  at  all  this  year,  as  she  was  to  have 
passed  the  summer  vacation  at  Niagara,  with  the  family  of  her  fa- 
vorite schoolmate.  I'd  have  fought  against  it  if  there  had  been  any 
use  in  it,  for  I'm  always  fearing  tome  one  may  see  her  and  speak 
before  I  can ;  for  of  course  I  can't  say  a  word  till  my  position  in  life 
is  assured.  I  only  hope,  now,  that  she  will  go ;  for  it's  plain  that 
till  you  are  out  of  her  head  I  can't  hope  to  get  into  it.  I  wonder  if 
it  isn't  unfortunate  to  have  known  a  young  lady  too  long?  If  we 
had  been  ns  little  acquainted  since  childhood  as  you  and  she  have 
been,  I  should  have  twice  the  chance  I  now  have  of  making  any  im- 
pression. However,  two  years  are  something,  and  if  she  gets  her 
head  full  of  everything  else,  to  my  utter  exclusion,  so  much  the  bet- 
ter for  me  when  she  comes  back.  It  will  be  a  sort  of  fresh  start,  you 
know." 

He  looked  resolute  and  hopeful  even  under  such  a  prospect ;  and 
looking  upon  him,  Lisle  wondered  how  it  is  that  aifection  in  this 
•world  so  seldom  directs  itself  into  the  proper  channel,  or  bestows  its 
treasures  where  they  would  be  most  highly  priz  d.  It  is  a  rule,  and 
not  its  exception,  that  it  is  poured  out  upon  some  indifferent  or  un- 
worthy object,  while  one  who  would  have  prized  it  more  than  life, 
plods  on  in  sorrow  and  neglect,  or  at  best  falls  heir  to  but  the  sorry 
crumbs  of  so-called  friendship. 

Something  of  the  same  tenor  seemed  to  have  occupied  Edward's 
mu.-ings,  for  he  said  a  little  ironically,  • 

;i  It's  well  that  married  people  can't  read  all  the  sentimental  his- 
tories each  of  them  has  passed  through.  If  all  the  disappointments, 
mid  unrequited  what-you-may-call-crns,  were  as  well  known  to  one 
as  to  the  other  of  them,  I  don't  imagine  they  would  prove  matri- 
m  .r,y  sweeteners.  However,  if  there  must  be  a  dozen  or  so  of  tender 
iu  each  one's  existence,  he  or  she  is  the  lucky  one  who  comes 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS.  100 

last,  and  I  do  suppose  that  if  I  know  Julie  to  have  fancied  a  round 
baker's  dozen  of  admirers,  I  shall  hail  my  turn,  when  it  comes,  with 
no  less  thankfulness." 

"  I  should  hope  so,  certainly !  The  world  might  well  laugh 
should  a  man  seek  to  make  it  believe  that  he  was  his  wife's  first  love. 
No  doubt  such  blessed  beings  do  live ;  but  the  world  doesn't  believe 
in  them,  and  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  it  should,  nor  why  one  should 
care  to  have  it.  When  real  life,  and  preaching — no  matter  how 
pretty  and  fine — can't  get  along  together  consistently,  it's  time  that 
preaching,  as  the 'more  artificial,  should  die  out  or  be  made  over; 
and  it's  every  one's  duty  to  lend  a  hand  toward  its  demolition.  There 
Jire  so  many  fine  theories  which  every  one  admires — for  others1  prac- 
tice !  Any  one  in  this  world  who  cares  to  be  loved,  is  a  fool  indeed 
to  cast  the  gift  from  him  when  offered,  because  another  may  have 
gloried  in  it  first.  It  is  curious  that  both  the  winner  and  the  loser 
feel  aggrieved  !  Some  day  your  '  turn,'  as  you  style  it,  must  and 
will  como,  if  you  continue  to  wish  it,  and  I  hope  your  present  bitter- 
ness may  then  re-assert  itself  as  sound  sense  ;  as  I've  no  doubt  it  will. 
Just  cast  away  all  care  for  the  '  baker's  dozen,'  and  be  thankful  if 
you  are  the  last  on  the  list." 

•  '•  When  I  said  I  supposed  I  should,  I  meant  that  I  have  thoroughly 
resolved  to,  and  I  know  I  shall.  Don't  I  prove  the  truth  of  it  in 
your  case?  Well,  I've  no  idea  I  shall  be  the  next  favored  one,  so 
there's  an  end  to  enumeration.  And  now  what  do  you  say  to  run- 
ning up  to  the  mill  to-morrow?  I  won't  trust  myself  in  the  house, 
for  I  believe  a  careless  fellow's  words  are,  among  a  woman's  sensi- 
bilities, what  a  bear  is  among  the  gimcracks  in  a  china  shop  ;  and 
the  old  lady  has  cultivated  hers  into  so  pugilistic  a  state  that  they 
rush  out  from  the  most  unexpected  corners  in  a  perfectly  rampant 
condition.  Those  poor  youngsters  at  home  are  coming  up  just  as 
we  did,  and  as  none  of  them  'take  after  the  Fitzjames<s,'  there  is 
no  lucky  escaper  from  the  shakings  and  slappings  visited  upon  the 
unfortunates  who  are  '  for  all  the  world  just  like  your  father.'  It  is 
enough  to  make  a  pious  individual  forget  all  his  prayers  except  the 
opening  address  which  is  jerked  right  out  of  him,  to  see  her  go  on 
at  times  ;  and  the  old  gentleman  won't  insist  upon  justice,  because 
he's  too  weak  to  oppose  her  when  he  knows  she  is  wrong.  Did  you 
see  how  much  afraid  of  her  that  very  baby  was  ?" 

"  I  didn't  observe,  particularly.  The  truth  is,  I  haven't  one  feel- 
ing of  relationship  towards  any  of  them  up  there  ;  and  if  it  were 
possible  for  one  to  suspect  his  legitimacy  upon  his  mother's  side,  I'd 


110  THE   HOUSE   BEII1XD   THE   POPLARS. 

challenge  mine.  It  is  time  I  were  back  by  the  doctor.  I  think  lie 
is  failing,  and  rnay  go  suddenly  at  mo-t  any  hour,  now.  What  a 
shame  some  rascal  doesn't  die  in  his  place!  I  believe  it  is  well 
established  that  one  scamp  outlives  ten  good  men." 

"  Yes.  I  don't  believe  Doctor  Ke'ley  ever  did  a  wrong  thing  in 
his  life,  and  everybody  else  says  the  same.  There  never  has  been 
one  breath  against  him." 

"  Good  night,"  said  Lisle,  abruptly ;  and,  leaving  Edward,  ho 
walked  toward  the  house. 

Edward  looked  after  him  a  moment,  then  smiled  at  his  eccen- 
tricity, and  made  his  own  way  back  to  the  office  alone. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  Ill 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WARNED  by  what  he  had  observed,  Lisle  avoided  the  former  fre- 
quent tete-a-tetes  with  Julie,  and  when  they  met  in  the  presence  of 
others,  was  so  guarded  in  his  deportment,  as  to  prevent  any  possible 
misinterpretation. 

Julie  often  raised  her  eyes  wonderingly  to  his  face,  surprised  by 
the  reserve  he  had  so  suddenly  adopted,  and  missing  day  after  day, 
the  society  she  had  so  learned  to  prize,  but  blameless  in  her  own 
conscience  of  having  merited  this  seeming  neglect,  she  asked  no  ex- 
planation, and  silently  acquiesced  in  the  new  order  of  affairs,  de- 
pressing and  unaccountable  as  they  were.  Heretofore,  he  had  al- 
ways sought  her  society  as  persistently  as  he  now  avoided  it,  and  the 
hour  had  gone  by,  when  she  could  frankly  have  asked  the  reason  for 
this  change  in  him.  There  was  infinitely  more  happiness  in  his  so- 
ciety, and  more  freedom  and  cordiality  existing  between  them,  before 
this  new  belief  had  found  place  in  her  heart,  and  from  wishing  that 
it  had  never  come,  she  began  to  reason  more  unprejudicedly  as  to 
whether  it  were  well  founded.  Certainly  no  kindred  delusion  could 
long  survive  the  exterminating  treatment  hers  received,  and  she 
awaited  the  denonuement  with  a  real  serenity  of  spirit,  which  at- 
tracted Mrs.  Kelly's  curiosity,  no  less  than  the  sudden  change  in 
Lisle's  deportment  had  done. 

There  seemed  but  one  solution  to  all  this,  some  "lover's  quarrel," 
or  temporary  misunderstanding,  which  the  false  pride  of  each  pre- 
vented from  being  explained  away ;  and  regretting  that  such  a 
shadow  should  come  between  them,  she  at  last  addressed  Julie  rela- 
tive to  it. 

"  What  is  the  trouble  between  you  and  Lisle,  Julie  ?  Is  there  any 
serious  misunderstanding  that  estranges  you  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,  mother.  He  is  so  eccentric  ;  and  of  late  he 
ecems  to  have  taken  a  new  something  into  his  head,  which,  I  sup- 
pose, will  work  itself  out  after  its  own  fashion.  If  he  chooses  us  to 
know  what  it  is,  he  will  tell  us." 


112  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   TUB   ron.AUS. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  so  philosophical  under  it.  If  you  ever  are  his 
•wife,  you  will  very  probably  have  to  cultivate  such  a  spirit  under 
many  trying  circumstance-.  This  is  most  wives'  experience,  and 
happy  is  the,  who,  through  all,  retains  her  respect  for  her  husband 
undiminished.  I  dare  not  hope  that  your  life  will  be  as  wholly  .rec 
from  such  trials  as  mine  has  been.  Your  father  has  been  to  me  what 
few  husbands  ever  are  in  this  world,  and  I  can  smile  upon  every  act 
of  his  noble  life  and  love  him  the  more  for  having  performed  it." 

Tears  born  of  her  sincerity  and  wifely  tenderness  trembled  in  her 
eyes  as  the  spoke,  and  a  little  pause  ensued. 

"Mother,'  said  Julie  hesitatingly,  "  it  is  very  possible  that  we  may 
have  been  mistaken  in  supposing  that  Lisle  cares  for  me — you  know 
wh£t  I  mean — in  a  particular  way.  He  never  told  me  that  lie  did, 
never  really  uttered  one  word  to  such  an  effect.  The  more  I  think 
of  it,  the  more  I  am  certain  he  never  meant  me  so  to  understand 
him.  He  really  might  be  my  own  brother,  for  any  word  he  ever 
spoke  to  me." 

"  Is  this  possible  ?  Then  I  am  more  in  fault  than  you,  and  I  have 
felt  ever  since  that  evening  in  the  library,  that  I  was  too  hasty  in 
the  words  I  spoke  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  since  I  would 
not  in  any  way  seek  to  influence  your  decision,  should  he  ask  you  to 
become  his  wife;  As  a  counter-balance,  I  will  tell  you.  now,  that 
when  I  mentioned  the  subject  to  your  father  he  quite  opposed  the 
idea;  urged  that  such  a  maraiage  would  prove  most  uncongenial, 
and,  in  fact,  grew  so  flushed  and  nervous  upon  the  subject  that  he 
excitedly  declared  it  '  impossible  /'  at  which  I  could  have  smiled,  as 
men  rarely  consider  that  in  such  matters  nothing  is  '  impossible,1 
however  ill-advised  it  may  be.  I  do  not  see  why  he  should  be  so 
much  opposed  to  the  marriage,  as  he  has  always  loved  Lisle  like  his 
own  son." 

"  Then,  mother,  that  would,  under  any  circumstances  end  it  all. 
I  do  not  think  either  that  I  ever  felt  towards  L;sle  that  sort  of  re- 
gard which  leads  people  to  marry  ea\'.h  other.  When  I  thought  for 
a  little  while  that  I  did,  it  was  more  because  I  fancied  he  loved  me 
than  from  any  other  reason.  "We  were  at  ease  and  happy  together 
before  such  an  idea  came  to  me;  and  we  have  not  seen  a  comforta- 
ble hour  together  since.  I  only  hope  he  doesn't  imagine  how  silly 
I  have  been.  I  should  die  of  mortification  if  he  knew  it  all !"  and 
her  f:»ce  was  flushed  as  she  turned  it  inquiringly  upon  her  mother, 
jis  if  hoping  for  reassurance.  Much  as  she  wished  to  give  if,  Mr?. 
Kellcy  felt  that  she  could  not  do  so  conscient!ou-ly.  She  could  not 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  113 

hope  that  he  had  failed  to  interpret  Julie's  manner  after  that  unfortu. 
iiate  library  scene,  and  that  he  had  read  it  aright,  his  sudden  reserve 
was  a  strong  indication. 

She  maintained  a  silence  therefore  under  this  mute  appeal,  which 
confirmed  Julie's  worst  fears ;  and  humiliated  and  chagrined,  she 
suddenly  quitted  the  room.  She  avoided  meeting  Lisle  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day,  and  only  when  twilight  deepened  and  she  knew 
he  was  sitting  alone,  summoned  courage  to  seek  him.  Her  heart 
beat  suffocatingly  as  she  placed  her  hand  upon  the  door-knob  ;  but 
after  an  instant's  hesitation,  she  turned  it  and  entered  the  room. 
He  was  leaning  moodily  against  the  window  thiough  which  ho 
looked  with  a  troubled  gaze,  never  turning  as  the  door  was  closed, 
though  he  must  have  heard  it,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm, 
Julie  spoke  but  one  word,  "  Brother." 

He  started  and  turned  his  face  upon  her,  dyed  almost  to  crimson, 
without  d  iring  to  ask  the  meaning  of  that  name.  One  glance  re- 
assured him,  even  before  she  continued, 

"Do  be  a  brother  to  me,  Lisle,  and  accept  me  as  a  sister.  You 
are  troubled  and  unhappy,  and  I  fear  I  have  rendered  you  more  so." 

Intensely  as  her  approaching  greeting  had  startled  him,  he  was 
relieved  as  he  realized  that  his  secret  was  still  his  own ;  nothing 
now  had  powt  r  to  embarrass  him,  and  all  things  unconnected  with 
that  one  trouble  were  light  in  comparison.  The  discomfort  of  the 
last  few  days  seemed  as  nothing,  and  he  answered  cheerful!}', 

"  Don't  mind  my  gloomy  moods,  little  sister,  they  are  an  unfortu- 
nate part  of  me,  and  I  shall  doubly  regret  them  if  they  prove  con- 
tagious." 

"Well,  you  used  to  say  I  was  the  best  antidote  for  such  mood.*, 
and  yet  for  a  whole  week  you  have  shunned  me  in  every  way.  Why? 
pray  r" 

He  commenced  a  laughing  reply  in  evasion;  but  she  interrupted 
it. 

"Don't  try  to  put  me  off  in  that  way.  One  of  us  must  speak  tho 
truth,  and  it  had  much  better  be  you." 

He  saw  that  nothing  short  of  the  outspoken  truth  would  content 
her;  but  any  words  that  he  could  choose  seemed  all  too  abrupt  lor 
utterance,  and  he  hesitated,  unable  to  commence.  She  spared  him 
the  task. 

"  You  saw  that  I  was  silly  and  vain  enough  to  misunderstand  you, 
and  you  could  not  endure  it.  I  shall  never  do  so  again,  as  my  pres- 
ence here  this  minute  is  your  best  guarantee.  You  cannot  be  more 


Ill  THE  UOUSE  BEHIND  TIIE  POPLARS. 

vexed  with  my  foolishness  than  I  am ;  but,  certainly,  very  little 
punishment  is  justly  due  me,  unless  you  mean  it  to  be  sudly  dispro- 
portionate to  any  happiness,  or  satisfaction  I  derived  from  a  mistaken 
idea  while  I  retained  it.  It  was  a  most  uncomfortable  delusion,  and 
I  only  realize  how  unhappy  it  made  me,  now  that  it  has  ceased,  and  • 
I  remember  how  happy  we  might  have  remained  all  this  time  but  for 
it," 

He  clasped  her  little  hand  with  his  old  cordiality  as  he  said, 

"  Julie,  you  are  a  sensible  girl,  and  an  honest  one.  It  is  usually 
quite  safe  to  believe  in  avowals  of  lack  of  affection,  whatever  one 
may  think  of  declarations  of  its  existence.  I  believe  I  shall  prove  a 
tolerable  brother ;  but  Fate  protect  the  woman  destined  to  receive 
me  as  a  lover,  much  more  as  a  '  liege  lord  !'  " 

"  I  can  hardly  imagine  you  in  either  capacity.  It  seems  as  ridic- 
ulous for  you  as  if  you  were  to  dance,  sing,  play  the  piano  or  some- 
thing, or  perform  anything  in  the  department  of  the  fine  arts.  It  is 
very  plain  that  you  were  never  intended  for  ornament,  whether  or 
not  you  were  for  use." 

"  Use !  of  course  I  am,  and  I  shall  probably  fulfill  destiny  as  som  5 
woman's  bill-payer  and  martyr,  though  heaven  postpone  the  hour  ! 
I  don't  take  kindly  to  matrimony,  and  if  it  were  not  really  inevita- 
ble, I  should  have  some  hope  of  escape.  I  shan't  look  upon  the 
woman  who  says  '  I  will '  for  me,  as  my  friend,  though  I  hope  I 
shall  treat  her  with  Christian  charity.  It  is  a  pity  that  so  many 
glorious  friendships  should  be  brought  to  an  untimely  end  by  the 
Betting  in  of  matrimony.  It  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  last  stage  in  the 
diagnosis  of  the  life-fever,  and  fearfully  liable  to  relapses,  circum- 
stances being  propitious.  Were  it  as  dangerous  to  life  as  most  peo- 
ple find  it  disagreeable,  there  would  bo  such  a  stampede  for  vacina- 
tion  against  it,  as  was  never  yet  equalled.  Matrimony  has  slain  its 
thousands,  in  a  mental  sense  !  Watch  and  pray  that  it  does  not  en- 
gulf you,  little  sister." 

"  Lisle,  if  you  really  meant  one  half  the  abominable  heresies  you 
utter,  you  wouldn't  be  tolerated  in  polite  society  !  I  wonder  who 
originated  the  fashion  of  men  aping  bears,  and  crucifying  nature  ! 
It  is  all  very  well  to  cry  out  against  certain  natural  results  of  being 
human,  and  divers  affectations  believed  in  by  humanity  at  large. 
They  who  are  most  sincere  in  this  cynicism,  prove  the  most  striking 
back-sliders,  or,  if  you  will,  falters  from  imaginary  grace.  Much  :ia 
you  like  to  sneer,  you  are  as  kind-hearted,  yes,  and  as  susceptible, 
as  any  one,  and  it  sounds  monstrously  like  affectation,  in  one  so 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   Tllfi   POPLARS.  115 

young  and  fortunate  as  you  aro,  to  be  forever  hinting  of  'dust, 
ashes,'  etc.  I  hope  I  shall  never  live  to  think  nature  made  a  mis- 
take in  my  manufacture,  and  so  set  myself  to  the  task  of  rectifying 
her  blunders.  I  would  rather  one  should  be  even  disagreeably  nat- 
ural, if  it  be  his  misfortune  to  be  disagreeable,  than  to  make  himself 
over  till  nothing  appears  but  aifectation.  I  dislike  '  cut  and  dried' 
things,  especially  in  the  animal  kingdom,  and  I  have  yet  to  see  a 
made-over  person,  who  isn't  stamped  with  his  own  handicraft  as 
plainly  as  if  it  were  chalked  on  his  back.1' 

"Thank  you.  I  think  I  never  saw  you  so  complimentary." 
"  I  was  not  alluding  to  you,  Lisle,  as  you  would  know,  did  not 
conscience  in  some  way  upbraid  you  !  Little  as  you  resemble  either 
your  father  or  mother,  I  never  thought  that  you  pretended  to  be 
what  you  are  not.  You  were  mentally  out  of  joint  when  you  en- 
tered upon  life,  there  is  no  doubt ;  and  you  had  as  much  right  to 
add  to  your  original  allowance  of  peculiarity  as  to  increase  your 
physical  proportions.  But  don't  become  bitter  in  it,  Lisle  !  It  is 
bad  enough  for  old  men  to  be  bitter  and  biting,  but  intolerable  when 
young  ones  adopt  it." 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Edward,  who,  over- 
hearing them  as  he  chanced  to  pass  the  window,  joined  them,  un- 
feignedly  glad  that  the  uncomfortable  constraint  which  had  over- 
shadowed them  all  for  a  whole  week,  had  given  place  to  something 
like  geniality  once  more.  It  was  evident  that  the  understanding 
between  Lisle  and  Julie  was  perfect  and  satisfactory  to  each  ;  and 
his  jealous  distrust  was  effectually  banished.  In  Lisle,  at  least,  he  • 
had  no  rival,  and  silently  hoping  he  might  never  encounter  a  more 
serious  obstacle  to  his  suit,  he  felt  his  heart  throb  more  lightly  than 
it  had  done  for  many  a  day.  Julie's  regard  must  have  been  slight 
and  transitory  indeed,  if  it  could  so  soon  give  place  to  the  calm 
friendship  now  so  unmistakably  existing  between  them,  and  he  need 
no  longer  feel  that  another  was  preferred  to  himsc'lf,  even  if  his  own 
prospects  were  all  unassured.  He  knew  that  years  must  elapse  be- 
fore he  could  hope  to  claim  her,  even  if  she  learned  to  love  him,  and 
he  resolved  to  wait  patiently  and  in  silence,  rather  than  to  inflict 
upon  her  those  years  of  hope  deferred  which  would  be  inevitable, 
and  doubly  bitter  to  him  if  she,  too,  suffered.  Resolved  as  he  was 
to  leave  her  free  and  untrammelled,  it  became  the  part  of  wisdom 
as  well  as  generosity,  not  to  press  a  suit  which  in  the  chances  and 
changes  of  those  years  might  be  lost  beyond  recovery ;  since  it  is 


116  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

even  more  difficult  to  revive  a  languishing  affection,  than  to  kindle 
one  in  the  first  instance. 

It  was  a  patient,  all-enduring  philosophy  little  to  have  been  ex- 
pected in  one  so  impetuous  as   Edward  was   by   nature ;    but  it 
formed  ouly  one  more  among  many  examples  of  the  way  in  which 
"  Love  worka  by  various  ways  in  different  minds." 

In  his  modesty  and  total  lack  of  egotism,  he  never  once  dreamed 
that  Julie  might  bestow  her  affection  upon  him  as  a  voluntary  and 
unsolicited  gift.  He  only  hoped  to  win  it,  and  these  years  of  silent 
devotion  were  only  one  offering  at  her  shrine  to  be  crowned  by 
many.  He  submitted  cheerfully  to  the  prospect  of  years  of  careless 
friendship,  but  one  degree  removed  from  indifference,  content  if,  at 
last,  in  Providence's  good  time,  she  should  come  to  appreciate  him  ; 
and  he  was  sincere  in  the  remark  he  had  made  to  Lisle,  that  he 
cared  not  how  many  might  have  been  preferred  to  him,  if  only  she 
came  to  love  him  at  last.  Tender  prepossessions  and  heart  histories 
were  inseparable  from  her  existence  as  a  pretty  woman ;  she  would 
be  sought  by  others,  wooed,  and  perhaps  temporarily  won — happi- 
ness sufficient  to  him  should  it  prove  only  temporarily ;  he  would 
welcome  her  with  his  whole  soul  when  and  how  she  might  come. 

Perfectly  unconscious  of  this  chivalrous  regard,  Julie  met  him 
<lay  by  day,  amid  the  careless,  unthinking  interchanges  of  life's 
small  courtesies ;  and  nothing  could  have  been  more  distant  from 
her  thoughts  than  that  he  should  ever  become  more  to  her,  or  she 
to  him,  than  each  now  was  to  the  other.  So  intimate  from  child- 
hood hud  been  their  companionship,  that  he  was  to  her  like  a 
brother,  and  she  entertained  for  him  only  that  lukewarm,  passive 
affection  usual  between  brothers  and  sisters,  whose  component  parts 
are  toleration  and  criticism.  Had  he  ever  attempted  the  customary 
role  of  elder  brother  towards  her,  even  this  passive  regard  would 
have  subsided  into  indifference ;  but  his  ever  ready  courtesy  and 
complimentary  deportment  towards  her  were  as  un brother-like  as 
were  the  sentiments  whose  only  expression  they  were;  and  her 
'liking'  for  him  was  unshadowed  by  any  other  sentiment  whatever. 
Separation  and  worldly  experience,  in  destroying  this  slight  tie, 
might  make  way  for  a  nearer  one ;  and  upon  this  hope  he  relied 
with  cheerful  faith. 

Through  what  suffering  and  disappointment  might  she  one  day 
learn  to  appreciate  him  ?  When,  if  ever,  would  she  turn  to  this 
steadfast  love  for  solace  after  one  of  life's  battles,  where  even  hope 
lay  wrecked  and  shattered.  Such  warfare  comes  to  all  earth's 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  117 

children,  and  blossed  are  they  who  gain  a  peaceful  haven,  though 
many  a  scar  and  seam  tell  of  the  conflict ! 


Wooed  by  the  sunshine  and  the  singing  birds,  Lisle  strolled  aim- 
lessly along  the  road  leading  out  to  the  mill.  Suddenly  realizing 
that  he  had  accomplished  nearly  half  the  distance,  he  determined 
to  pay  Mr.  Sterling  a  visit ;  and  a  brisk  walk  soon  brought  him  to 
the  hill,  descending  which  unseen  from  the  house,  he  sought  the  old 
gentleman  at  his  work. 

The  water  was  at  its  height,  and  the  drooping  willow  branches 
lay  far  out  upon  the  swollen  bosom  of  the  pond  lying  so  majestically 
in  sunlight  and  shade,  as  if  unconscious  that  its  dam  was  chattering 
in  noisy  accompaniment  to  the  softer  whirring  of  the  mill-wheel  in 
its  busy  round.  Lisle  lingered  to  look  upon  the  scene  as  one  does 
upon  familiar  haunts  of  one's  childhood,  even  though  unendeared 
by  fond  recollections.  It  was  painfully  familiar,  associated  as  it  un- 
avoidably was  with  his  miserable  boyhood ;  and  turning  away,  he 
abruptly  entered  the  mill.  The  doors  were  open  for  the  entrance 
of  the  soft  summer  breeze,  for  "  mild-eyed  June  "  had  come  with 
her  balmy  breath ;  and  looking  around  in  search  of  Mr.  Sterling, 
Lisle  saw  him  at  the  far  end  of  the  room,  covered  with  the  flour 
that  fleeced  his  coat  and  battered  hat,  and  heavily  powdered  his 
eyebrows.  Seeing  Lisle  in  the  doorway,  he  came  to  meet  him,  re- 
lieving his  hat  of  its  fleecy  covering  by  a  few  well-planted  blows, 
the  like  of  which  upon  former  occasions  had  rendered  it  mellow  and 
dejected  to  the  last  degree  ;  and  dusting  his  fuce  with  his  red  hand- 
kerchief, he  merely  said,  as  he  shook  Lisle's  hand  with  a  repetition 
of  the  fanning-mill  process,  "Well,  my  son."  But  the  satisfaction 
expressed  in  his  face  spoke  more  than  any  words  could  have  done, 
and  Lisle  answered  it  accordingly. 

"  Yes,  I  have  stolen  away  this  morning  for  an  hour  or  two.  I  should 
have  visited  you  sooner,  but  many  things  prevented.  You  seem 
busy." 

"  Only  tolerable,  only  tolerable.  I  don't  make  money  these  days. 
It  seems  to  me  there  an't  as  much  money  made  in  any  business  as 
there  used  to  be.  Nobody  wants  to  pay  cash  for  anything  now-n- 
days,  and  I  can't  make  anything  by  always  putting  up  with  part  of 
the  grist.  Flour  gets  lower  and  lower  all  the  time,  with  all  this 
Western  wheat  coming  into  the  market.  I  don't  see  how  I'm  to  look 
out  for  my  family  if  things  don't  take  a  turn  by-and-bye." 

"Oh,  don't  take  so  gloomy  a  view  of  things.     You  are  worth 


118  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

more,  today,  than  most  of  your  neighbors.  You  needn't  care  to 
make  money." 

"No  I  au't,  Lisle,  no  I  an't.  Children  always  have  the  idea  that 
old  folks  are  able  to  '  shell  out'  on  all  dccasions,  but  it  takes  a'  most 
all  an  honest  man  can  earn,  to  bring  up  a  fimily.  I  couldn't  have 
done  anything  for  Edward  if  Dr.  Kelley  hadn't  come  forward  and 
begged  as  a  favor  to  take  him  into  his  office.  He  is  a  proud  boy, 
ami  didn't  take  kindly  to  being  a  miller  like  his  father.  He  has 
[his  mother's  blood  more  than  min?;  the  Fitzjameses  were  a  proud 
family,  but  very  upright  an  1  honorable.  I  could  have  wished  Ed- 
ward had  a  little  more  Sterling  about  him  though,  as  he  could  by 
this  time  have  carried  on  the  business  I'm  getting  too  old  to  'tend 
to.  But  I  suppose  Providence  will  provide." 

"  Yes,  if  one  never  stops  working,  and  continually  whittles  down 
ones  necessities.  I  must  confess  I  haven't  the  sublimest  faith  in  this 
'  providing  of  providence.'  It  seems  to  me  the  most  unaccountable 
freak  of  faith  where  all  is  mysterious  ;  and  I'm  not  anxious  to  bestow 
upon  an  imaginary  '  providence '  the  rewards  of  my  own  hard  work 
and  clear  calculation." 

"  My  son,"  replied  the  old  man  seriously,  laying  his  hand  upon 
Lisle's  shoulder,  to  enforce  the  words,  "  don't  speak  lightly  of  seri- 
ous things;  and  beware  of  taking  up  any  of  these  infidel  doctrines 
every  year  spreading  round  the  world.  Remember  that  '  the  devil 
is  as  a  roaring  lion.'  A  good  many  things  seem  hard  for  human 
natur'  to  believe;  but  you'll  come  easier  to  believe  them,  when  you 
consider  that  if  you  don't  you  will  enter  into  everlasting  damnation. 
Think  of  that,  my  son :  everlasting  damnation  1  It's  better  to  be- 
lieve in  most  anything,  no  matter  how  hard." 

u "Well,  father,  you  nviy  well  believe  'providence  will  provide,' 
since  you  are  well  assured  of  '  peace  and  plenty '  if  you  never  work 
another  day.  But  how  is  it  men  never  make  the  discovery  which 
women  are  forever  announcing — that  they  have  done  their  share  of 
hard  work  in  this  world,  and  are  entitled  to  rest  during  the  remainder 
of  their  natural  life." 

"  I  think,  my  son,  that  I  have  known  more  lazy  men  than  I  ever 
have  lazy  women.  There's  your  mother,  now ;  a  harder  working 
person — man  or  woman — never  lived.  She's  been  just  the  wife  for 
me,  though  I  don't  think  she  was  quite  calculated  for  a  mother. 
The  Fitzjames  blood  is  smart  and  quick,  and  quickness  don't  quite 
agree  with  children.  By  the  way,  did  you  see  your  mother  wlu-n  you 
came  up?  Suppose  you  go  in  and  sit  awhile.  I  haven't  quite  liu- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  119 

ishecl  my  morning  work,  and  De  icon  Jones  may  send  round  for  it 
any  minute,  nov/." 

"  Don't  let  me  detain  you.  I'll  stroll  around  till  you  finish,  if  it 
isn't  loug,"  and  going  out  he  wandered  around  for  a  while,  in  a  list- 
less, not  altogether  happy  frame  of  mind,  when  the  sudden  whinny- 
ing of  a  horse  at  the  hitching-post,  attracted  his  attention,  and  ha 
recognized  Dr.  Kelley's  boy,  who  walked  rapidly  to  the  door  with  a 
note  visible  in  his  hand,  which  he  delivered  to  Mrs.  Sterling,  who 
came  out  in  response  to  his  knock,  and  immediately  remo-unted  his 
horse  and  rode  back  towards  town.  Alarmed  by  what  he  saw,  Lisle 
conquered  his  aversion  to  meeting  his  mother,  and  quickly  reached 
the  door. 

"  What  is  wrong  at  the  doctor's,  that  the  boy  was  sent  up  ?"  he 
asked  abruptly  without  offering  the  ordinary  salutation. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Lisle  !  The  doctor's  boy  ?  Oh,  he  was  com- 
ing this  way,  and  Edward  remembered  I  wanted  some,  arnica — it's 
the  best  thing  in  the  world  for  bruises  and  burns,  and  all  that — so 
he  sent  him  up  with  it.  I  inquired  about  the  doctor,  and  the  boy 
says  he's  suddenly  worse  since  morning." 

"  Then  I  shall  return  immediately.  Be  good  enough  to  explain  to 
father  why  I  don't  wait  to  say  good-bye,''  and  he  hastened  away. 

The  tearful  faces  that  greeted  him  as  he  arrived,  confirmed  the 
alarming  intelligence,  and  he  at  once  repaired  to  the  doctor's  room.. 
Dr.  Kelley  turned  his  eyes  eagerly  toward  the  door  as  he  heard  it 
open,  and  for  the  first  time  Lisle  missed  the  usual  smile  of  gratifica- 
tion at  his  presence.  In  place  of  this,  a  look  of  pain  crossed  the 
doctor's  faco,  and  he  exclaimed  sorrowfully, 

"  He  won't  come,  then !" 

"Who  are  you  expecting  ?  I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"Miles  Sterling.  Have  not  you  just  come  from  the  mill-house? 
My  note  must  have  reached  him.  Julie  wrote  and  dispatched  it 
fully  one  hour  ago." 

i;.He  may  have  done  so  ere  this.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  somo 
time  before  I  left,  nor  did  I  stop  to  say  good-bye  when  I  learned  you 
were  worse.  I  am  quite  certain  the  note  was  then  in  the  house,  as  I 
taw  mother  talking  with  the  probable  bearer  of  it.  I  am  sure  the 
old  gentleman  will  come  at  once,  though  it  is  a  busy  day  at  the 
mill." 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  die  in  this  way  !  I  must  confess  the  wrong  I  have 
done  him,  unrepaired  through  all  these  years.  I  have  sought  to 
quiet  conscience  by  bestowing  benefits  upon  him  and  his,  have  rear- 


1-0  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

ccl  ns  my  own  his  son,  as  expiation  for  putting  mine  under  his  name 
and  guardianship — in  vain  !  Even  his  curse  is  preferable  to  carry- 
ing this  miserable  secret  to  the  grave.  Hypocrite  during  my  life,  I 
Avould  lie  in  my  grave  an  honest  if  a  hated  man  !" 

"  Do  you  really  feel  that  such  a  revelation,  involving  all  that  it 
must,  is  wise,  or  that  you  will  be  happier  for  making  it?'' 

"  Yes,  Lisle,  yes  !  I  am  done  with  earthly  happiness,  and  looking 
at  this  thing  in  the  light  of  the  other  world,  I  dare  not  enter  it  con- 
demned, to  bear  through  eternity  the  aching  burden  I  have  borne 
in  this  one.  I  think  you  over-estimate  the  consequences  likely  to 
ensue  from  what  I  must  confess.  Miles  Sterling  respects,  and  in  his 
own  way  loves  his  wife,  and  he  will  overlook  this  one  error,  when  he 
thinks  of  all  these  years  of  faithful  duty  to  him.  His  pride  will  seal 
his  lips,  very  probably  even  to  her;  find  I  am  sure  you  will  not 
shrink  from  so  slight  a  sacrifice  as  it  involves  to  yourself,  when  you 
know  that  it  takes  from  my  last  moments  the  sting  I  have  suffered 
for  so  many,  many  years  !  Let  me  at  least  die  in  peace !" 

Pressing  down  his  rebellious  feelings,  Lisle  murmured, 

"  Do  as  you  will,"  and  only  the  actual  giddiness  the  effort  cost 
him,  evidenced  the  pang  with  which  the  words  were  wrung  from 
him. 

The  doctor  laid  his  head  back  upon  its  pillow,  with  a  smile  of  con- 
tent, and  an  unconscious  interval,  half  sleep,  half  waking,  succeeded 
the  excitement  under  which  he  had  labored.  Mrs.  Kelley  looked  in, 
but  seeing  him  quiet  as  if  sleeping,  softly  withdrew  that  she  might 
not  disturb  him.  The  closing  door  again  aroused  him,  and  soeing 
that  no  one  had  entered,  he  murmured  sorrowfully, 

"Not  yet,  not  yet!  Is  all  reparation  denied  me  ?"  A.  few  inaudi- 
ble words  followed,  and  then  he  wearily  repeated,  "  No  hypocrite 
shall  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !  Ah,  me !  Who  speaks  2" 

There  was  another  interval  of  unconsciousness,  during  which  his 
head  tossed  restlessly  from  side  to  side  ;  and  finding  upon  a  second 
essay  that  he  was  not  sleeping,  Mrs.  Kelly  approached  and  bent  over 
him.  He  looked  wistfully  into  her  face  as  he  asked  again, 

"  Won't  he  come  to  me  ?" 

"  Who,  William  ?  Is  it  Edward  you  wish  to  see,  young  Sterling  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sterling,  Sterling.  It's  him  I  want,"  murmured  the  doctor, 
wearily.  Lisle  knew  not  how  to  interpose,  assured  as  he  was  that 
it  was  only  the  name  of  the  man  whom  he  had  wronged  that  caught 
his  wandering  consciousness.  Edward  approached  and  addressed 
him ;  but  the  doctor  interrupted  querulously, 


TIIE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  121 

"Not  him,  not  him.  I  want  Miles  Sterling;  he  who  married 
Lydia  Fitzjaines,  the  mother  of  my — "  lie  checked  himself  even 
then,  and  his  wife  supplied  the  word, 

"  Your  pupil.     Yes,  I  understand.     He  shall  be  sent  for." 

"  Father  was  sent  for  fully  three  hours  ago.  Julie  handed  me  the 
note  she  had  written  at  her  father's  request,  and  I  charged  the  boy 
to  make  all  possible  haste  and  deliver  it  to  whoever  he  sa\v  first  at' 
the  house,  as  father  might  be  out.  He  must  have  been  so,  or  he 
would  have  been  here  long  since,"  Ectwaid  said,  explanatorily. 

The  doctor's  eyes  turned  steadily  upon  him  and  rested  there, 
plainly  evincing  that  he  heard  and  comprehended  every  word;  and 
when  Edward  ceased  speaking,  he  rocked  his  head  to  and  fro,  as 
he  muttered  hopelessly,  "  I  see  it  all  ;  it's  all  clear  to  me  now." 

His  hand  dropped  heavily  upon  the  bed  as  he  tried  to  raise  it  to 
iiis  brow  upon  which  heavy  drops  of  moisture  gathered,  and  a  look 
of  utter  wretchedness  and  dL-appoinment  settled  upon  his  face. 

It  seemed  as  though  with  the  de.ttli  of  hope  the  cords  of  life  had 
snapped;  for  moments  succeeded  when  it  was  impossible  to  say  that 
h<5  even  breathed,  and  during  one  of  these  Lisle  bent  closely  over 
him  to  ascertain  if  he  indeed  were  among  the  living  or  the  dead, 
when  suddenly  the  closed  eyes  looked  up,  filled  with  a  luminous 
haze,  and  the  pale  lips  smiled  as  they  uttered  fondly,  ''  My  son  /" 

"  His  mind  wanders,"  said  Mrs.  Kelley,  softly,  but  even  as  she 
spoke,  Lisle  saw  that  all  was  over,  and  tenderly  pressed  his  hnnd 
over  the  open  eyelids  in  a  way  that  spoke  all  which  words  could 
have  told.  A  few  moments  of  utter  silence  reigned  in  the  room, 
when,  hearing  Julie  in  the  hall  upon  her  way  hither,  Mrs.  Kelley 
summoned  self-command  and  went  out  to  intercept  her,  unwilling 
that  she  should  suffer  the  shock  such  a  sitjht  must  inflict  upon  her. 
Taking  from  her  the  bowl  of  nutriment  she  had  just  prepared  for 
her  fathers's  lips,  Mrs.  Kelley  placed  it  upon  a  table  near,  and 
clasping  the  hand  that  had  held  it  kissed  it  tenderly,  and  led  her 
away.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  but  Julie  knew  that  kiss  was  be- 
stowed upon  a  hand  that  had  performed  its  last  loving  office  for  a 
living  father.  Edward  saw  them  weeping  in  each  others  arms  as  he 
stole  past  the  open  door  upon  his  way  down  stairs,  and  his  heart 
swelled,  as  much  at  the  tender  sight  as  under  his  own  bereavement. 

Lisle  remained  alone  with  the  dead.  Inexpressibly  affected  as  he 
was  by  the  death  of  tint  father  whose  error  had  crushed  out  the 
happiness  of  two  lives,  he  yet  felt  an  actual  heart-throb  of  relief  that 
the  hour  of  his  more  than  mortal  peril  was  over,  and  the  humiliating 


122  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

secret  was  still  his  own.  It  was  enough  that  they  two  should  so 
have  suffered  under  it,  without  pressing  the  draft  to  the  lips  of  poor, 
honest  old  Miles  Sterling,  even  might  he  have  drained  it  in  silence ; 
but  knowing,  as  he  did,  the  old  man's  keen  appreciation  of  anything 
approaching  to  dishonor,  he  felt  assured  that  he  would  not  have  ex- 
tended toward  his  erring  wife  that  forgiveness  upon  which  the  doc- 
'tor  had  so  firmly  counted.  It  was  better  for  all  that  the  secret  and 
its  bitter  repentance  remained  untold,  even  at  the  price  of  trickery 
in  withholding  the  note  which  summoned  the  wronged  but  unsus- 
pecting old  man  to  the  death  bed.  That  it  had  been  withheld,  Lisle 
was  as  well  assured  as  the  doctor  had  been  when  he  avowed  that  he 
"  saw  it  all,"  and  so  resigned  the  hope  for  whose  fulfillment  he  seemed 
to  have  stayed  his  steps  upon  the  very  threshold  of  Eternity. 

It  seemed  to  Lisle  that  this  escape  from  the  ever  impending  calam- 
ity which  rendered  his  very  life  a  nightmare,  was  little  less  than 
miraculous.  A  little  more  caution  with  that  note,  and  all  had  fallen 
in  ruin  around  him  !  An  object  of  town  gossip — a  tainted  individ- 
ual from  whom  men  turned  away  and  maidens  shrank — a  humiliated, 
wrongfully  punished  man.  whose  very  tombstone  must  publish  his 
shame  or  rear  aloft  a  lie — death,  mental  and  phy.-ical,  were  sweet  in 
comparison  !  Fate  far  more  bitter  than  Cain's,  iu  bearing  that  bit- 
terer sting  of  injustice! 

It  had  passed  by  him  through  a  chance  as  invisible  as  the  thread 
of  fate,  and  half  stunned  by  the  very  intensity  of  this  unhoped  for 
relief,  Lisle  moved  and  felt  like  one  in  a  dream. 


HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  123 


CHAPTER  XIL 

AnorjSED  from  thoughts  of  himself  by  his  considerateness  and 
care  for  others,  Lisle  took  upon  himself  the  necessary  direction  of 
affairs,  and  spared  Mrs.  Kelley  the  many  harrowing  details  insepara- 
ble from  the  last  offices  to  the  dead;  and,  from  his  calm  decision  of 
manner,  no  one  would  have  suspected  that  any  tie  of  consanguinity 
existed  between  him  and  the  friend  for  whom  the  whole  country 
round  was  inconsolable.  Few  indeed  were  they  who  had  not  some 
act  of  kindness  to  recall,  some  beneficence  of  word  or  deed,  whose 
memory  should  rise  up  in  blessing  whenever  Dr.  Kelley's  name 
should  fall  upon  their  ears. 

Ever  alert  to  relieve  the  wants  of  the  poor,  those  who  suffered  in 
spirit  only  were  the  even  more  blessed  recipients  of  his  aid  and 
sympathy ;  and  the  tact  with  which  he  relieved  all  suffering, 
amounted  to  an  inspiration.  If  Lisle  mourned  for  him  in  bitterness 
of  spirit,  it  was  a  natural  and  noble  testimony  to  his  worth  and 
kindness ;  and  no  one  criticised  it  in  very  sympathy. 

Edward  was  to  all  outward  seeming  more  inconsolable  than  ho. 
More  demonstrative  by  nature,  and  feeling  no  necessity  for  the  stern 
control  Lisle  imposed  upon  himself,  he  gave  natural  expression  to 
his  sorrow,  feeling  that  he  had  lost  a  father  more  truly  than  had 
Miles  Sterling  himself  lain  in  that  silent  coffin. 

Vain  benefaction  had  Dr.  Kelley  offered  in  expiation  of  his  sin 
since  the  first-born  of  the  man  he  had  wronged,  thus  transferred  to 
him  all  filial  allegiance  and  affection,  in  very  gratitude  for  the  expia- 
tory offering ! 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sterling  had  offered  their  services  to  the  doctor's 
family ;  but  as  they  were  not  required,  no  meeting  had  occurred 
between  them  since  his  death.  They  came  to  the  funeral,  however, 
rather  earlier  than  the  appointed  hour,  as  behooved  such  old  and 
intimate  friends ;  and  as  Mrs.  Kelley  and  Julie  were  yet  invisible, 
the  brothers  received  them.  Mrs.  Sterling  was  uncomfortable  and 
manifestly  ill  at  ease  in  Lisle'a  presence,  dreading  lest  he  might 


124  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

make  some  allusion  to  the  errand  of  the  doctor's  boy  upon  the  last 
occasion  when  they  had  met ;  for  she  thought  it  almost  an  impossi- 
bility that  so  pressing  an  errand  should  not  have  been  made  known 
to  him  upon  his  return.  But  he  had  resolved  not  to  broach  tho 
subject,  well  assured  as  he  was  that  her  cunning  had  defeated  the 
doctor's  intention  of  a  last  interview  with  her  husband,  and  she 
might  have  escaped  the  ordeal,  but  for  a  remark  of  the  unsuspecting 
Edward  in  reply  to  some  question  of  his  father's  relative  to  Dr.* 
Kelley's  last  hours. 

"  He  did  not  seem  to  suffer  very  much  physically ;  but  he  was  very 
nnxious  to  see  you,  asking  again  and  again  if '  you  would  not  come.' 
Why  did  not  you  obey  his  request,  father  ?  Old  friends  as  you 
were,  I  should  never  have  dreamed  that  you  would  have  delayed 
for  one  moment." 

"I  never  knew  before  that  he  wanted  me.  Of  course  I  should 
have  come." 

"  Then  you  didn't  receive  the  note  Julie  wrote  at  his  request, 
Degging  you  to  come  to  him  immediately  ?  I  sent  it  by  the  errand- 
boy,  and  charged  him  not  to  lose  a  moment  on  the  way.  I  know 
>ie  went  with  it,  and  he  told  me  upon  his  return  he  had  delivered 

"It  got  lost  somewhere,  for  I  never  saw  it.     Did  you,  Lydia?" 

"Why,  really;  I  remember  all  about  it  now.  Yes,  the  boy 
brought  it  to  the  house,  and  never  dreaming  it  was  anything  press- 
ing, I  put  it  up  in  the  clock  to  keep  till  you  came  in  to  dinner.  It 
was  a  real  busy  day  down  in  the  mill,  and  you  didn't  stop  for  your  din- 
ner till  late  in  the  afternoon,  so  that  with  one  thing  and  another,  I 
forgot  all  about.  I'll  give  it  to  you  as  soon  as  we  get  back  home." 

"  It  ain't  much  use  now.  I  don't  see  how  you  could  have  forgot 
it  at  the  time,  when  you  knew  the  doctor  wasn't  expected  to  live 
many  hours  more.  I  thought  you  set  more  by  your  friends  tliaa 
that." 

There  was  reproof,  but  not  suspicion  in  his  voice ;  and  involun- 
tarily Lisle  turned  a  searching  glance  upon  her.  She  became  sliglit- 
rly  disconcerted  under  his  scrutiny,  resolutely  as  she  endeavored  not 
to  betray  it,  and  he  could  not  resist  throwing  a  certain  meaning  into 
his  tone  as  he  said,  too  low  for  any  one  but  her  to  understand, 

"I  am  afraid  that  'arnica'  caused  forgetfulness.  Did  you  find  it 
equally  efficacious  with  bruises  and  buri.s  ?  You  have  much  to 
thank  it  for,  truly  !" 

He  regretted  the  words  the  moment  they  were  uttered.     His  only 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLAKS.  125 

safe-gunrd  now,  against  the  revelation  he  dreaded,  was  in  this 
woman's  power  to  keep  the  secret,  and  he  could  illy  afford  to  weaken 
one  of  its  defences  by  suspicion.  He  was,  then,  relieved  as  well  as 
rea-sured  by  the  perfect  simplicity  of  manner  with  which  she  com- 
posedly replied,  in  a  tone  audible  to  all, 

"  It  is  very  likely  as  you  say.  Any  woman  with  a  housefull  of 
things  to  'tend  to,  from  children  up  to  cooking  and  dish-washing, 
has  enough  to  make  her  forgetful !  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  make 
my  oath  that  I'm  the  first  Fitzjames  that  ever  was  so  put  to  it  to 
get  along.  It's  only  a  wonder  that  I  ever  think  of  anything,  let 
alone  a  miserable  little  note  no  larger  than  my  two  fingers." 

Sick  at  heart  and  disgusted  at  her  consummate  duplicity,  faith- 
fully ns  it  served  him  even  now,  Lisle  turned  away  and  looked  out 
among  the  crowd  now  rapidly  assembling.  He  felt  that  he  had 
little  to  lear  as  long  as  her  mind  remained  subject  to  her  will ;  that 
the  secret  she  had  guarded  half  a  lifetime  would  not  escape  her  con- 
trol while  reason  retained  its  throne ;  and  mentally  praying  that 
this  might  be  forever,  he  threw  off  the  incubus  upon  his  spirit,  and 
fulfilled  the  duties  devolving  upon  him  through  the  day,  with  a  calm 
exterior  that  spoke  nothing  of  the  secret  torture  within. 

The  feelings  with  which  Mrs.  Sterling  saw  Dr.  Kelley  lowered  to 
his  la*t  earthly  home,  were  known  only  to  herself.  She  made  no 
pretension  to  inconsolable  grief,  nor  was  it  probable  that  she  felt  any 
such,  since  she  had  never  forgiven  him  for  having  married  another, 
and  the  firm  control  he  had  never  ceased  to  exercise  over  her  since 
one  well-remembered  scene  between  them,  increasing  to  outspoken 
authority  wherever  Lisle  was  involved,  had  stung  and  galled  her 
since  she  had  felt  that  as  the  wile  of  Miles  Sterling  she  should  be 
free  from  it.  She  had  endured  the  continual  consciousness  that  his 
eye  was  ever  upon  her  so  far  as  this  boy  was  concerned,  ;md  every 
instance  of  his  protecting  affection  for  him  had  stung  her  to  active 
malice  where  she  could  elude  las  observation.  Any  affection  she 
might  ever  possibly  have  felt  for  him,  was  long  since  dead,  and  in- 
difference had  succeeded  to  the  hatred  she  had  once  really  borne 
him  and  outrightly  declared. 

It  was  Miles  Sterling,  the  honest,  unsuspecting  friend  of  later 
years,  who  mourned  him  most  sincerely  of  the  two ;  and  but  for  the 
veil  which  concealed  her  face,  his  wife's  contempt  for  this  sincerity 
would  have  been  plainly  visible  to  all  observers,  despite  the  expres- 
sion of  sorrow  she  had  lorccd  upon  it.  Poor,  honest  old  man ! 
Lisle  pitied  him  with  his  whole  soul.  The  peculiarities  and  weak- 


120  TUB  HOUSE  BEIIIND  THE  POPLARS. 

nesses  which  marred  his  character  formed  no  bar  against  the  sym- 
pathy excited  by  the  unmerited  wrongs  he  had  suffered  from  the  two 
persons  whom  he  most  trusted  and  esteemed — his  wife,  and  the  ben- 
efactor of  his  son.  For  all  his  narrow-mindedness  and  parsimony, 
he  was  strictly  just  and  honorable  towards  his  feilow-men,  not  one 
of  whom  he  would  thus  have  betrayed,  for  life  itself.  It  was  an  un-- 
merited  insult  which  his  wife  now  dealt  him  in  her  cwa  heart,  and 
Lisle  felt  it  by  that  intuition  which  is  as  strong  and  unerring  i'u  bit- 
ter antipathy  as  under  the  nearest  sympathy. 

Impatient  as  Lisle  was  to  return  to  his  own  home,  and  thus  bid 
adieu,  happily  if  forever,  to  so  much  that  was  painful  iu  all  respects 
amid  his  present  surroundings,  it  seemed  to  him  little  short  of  heart- 
lessncss  to  leave  Mrs.  Kelley  now,  when  she  more  than  ever  needed 
his  aid  and  sympathy.  Totally  unfit  to  assume  the  necessary  direc- 
tion of  afiairs,  she  cluug  to  him  with  an  affection  intensified  by  the 
remembrance  of  how  dear  he  had  been  to  her  husband,  nnd  relied 
upon  him  as  entirely  as  only  a  woman  can.  It  was  worse  than  use- 
less to  think  of  leaving,  till  affairs  should  be  smoothly  running  in 
their  new  channel ;  and  to  this  consummation  he  bent  every  energy. 

Dr.  Kelley,  though  too  generous  and  uncalculating  ever  to  have 
accumulated  a  fortune,  had  left  enough  property  to  secure  to  his 
family  a  comfortable  maintenance,  and  a  small  legacy  was  willed  to 
Edward  for  the  purpose  of  completing  the  course  of  lectures  already 
begun.  Lisle  thoroughly  rejoiced  that  he  was  thus  enabled  to  secure 
the  advantages  which  his  stubborn  independence  would  never  have 
allowed  him  to  accept  as  even  a  brother's  gift,  and  Edward's  future 
thus  fur  provided  for,  he  directed  his  own  immediate  attention  to 
other  matters.  Dr.  Kelley  had,  with  the  exception  of  this  legacy, 
willed  all  his  property  to  his  wife  in  trust  for  their  daughter,  as- 
sociating Lisle  as  her  guardian,  by  Mrs.  Kelley's  own  request ;  and 
in  eonnection  with  this  trust,  she  one  evening  sought  him,  and  with 
more  calmness  than  she  had  assumed  since  her  husband's  death,  said 
kindly, 

"  I  know,  Lisle,  that  you  are  anxious  to  return  to  your  own  pur- 
suits, and  that  the  weary  weeks  you  have  spent  here  were  a  sacrifice, 
however  cheerfully  yielded.  I  am  going  to  release  you  at  once." 

He  would  have  disclaimed  the  assertion,  but  she  prevented  him. 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  leave  everything  and  come  in  response 
to  a  wish  that  must  have  seemed  unreasonable,  and  wholly  uu- 
siccountable,  as  so  many  years  separation  tells  more  upon  the  un- 
stable remembrance  of  childhood,  thm  upon  such  love  as  the 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLARS.  127 

doctor  always  cherished  for  you.  He  always  loved  whatever  ho 
protected,  and  your  delicate,  unhappy  childhood  affected  him  deeply. 
I  think  he  had  long  designed  naming  you  as  Julie's  guardian,  and 
when  I  saw  how  noble  tmd  trustworthy  you  are,  I,  too,  overlooked 
tiic  objection  of  your  youthfulness,  and  to  spare  him  the  evident  em- 
barrassment under  which  he  labored  in  naming  a  request  which  he 
feared  I  might  think  a  singular  if  not  unreasonable  one,  I  requested 
him  to  associate  you  witli  myself  in  her  guardianship.  You  were 
painfully  precocious  as  a  child,  and  young  as  you  yet  are  in  years, 
mentally  you  are  older  than  most  men  who  have  exceeded  them  by 
a  third.  I  rely  upon  your  judgment  most  implicitly,  as  I  need  not 
assure  you.  And  now.  Lisle,  promise  me  that  if  Julie  is  ever  left 
alone  in  the  world,  you  will  be  a  brother  to  her.  I  know  that  as 
guardian,  you  would  be  faithful  and  kind;  but  take  her  to  your 
heart,  and — if  you  have  one  of  your  own — your  home,  as  a  very  sis- 
ter. At  my  death  she  will  not  have  a  relative  in  the  wide  world/' 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Kelley,  may  that  time  lie  far  in  the  future !  I  do 
promise,  most  faithfully,  to  be  a  true  and  loving  brother  to  Julie,  in 
all  things ;  and  should  she  ever  be  left  alone  by  your  death,  my  uncle 
will  be  to  her  the  father  he  has  been  to  me.  I  can  safely  promise 
that  she  shall  find  a  home  with  us." 

"  She  may  require  it  sooner  than  you  think.  I  am  not  gloomy  or 
foreboding ;  but  I  have  long  been  far  from  well  or  strong,  and  with 
William's  death  I  have  lost  the  will  to  live  which  has  thus  far  kept 
me  up.  Next  month  Julie  returns  to  school  to  finish  the  course  of 
study  her  father  wished  her  to  pursue;  and  I  am  certain  that  this 
farewell  will  be  our  last.  I  have  not  breathed  th's  to  her;  for,  with 
youth,  continual  apprehension  is  more  grievous  to  be  endured  than 
the  bitterest  sorrow  falling  unannounced.  In  the  hour  when  this 
fills  upon  her,  comfort  her  as  you  best  can.  If  the  love  her  father 
and  I  have  always  felt  for  you  is  thus  reflected  back  upon  our  little 
daughter,  we  shall  not  have  left  her  unprotected.  You  and  I  may 
i  ever  meet  again  ;  but  I  shall  die  in  firm  reliance  upon  your  prom- 
ise. I  wish  you  were  her  brother  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name." 

Lisle  felt  the  flush  that  crept  swiftly  up  to  his  very  forehead,  and 
bending  his  head,  he  reverently  kissed  the  hand  Mrs.  Kelley  had 
placed  upon  his  arm,  powerless  to  utter  a  word.  "When  he  again 
looked  up,  she  was  gone. 

The  next  morning,  Lisle  commenced  his  preparations  to  return 
home  at  once,  amid  which  he  was  interrupted  by  a  startling  event. 
Chancing  to  be  near  the  door  •when  the  bell  was  hastily  wrung,  he 


128  THE   HOUSE   BEIIIXD   THE   POPLABS. 

opened  it  him=elf,  nnd  received  a  telegram  from  the  messenger,  di- 
rected to  his  address,  and  with  an  intuitive  sensation  of  alarm,  ho 
tore  it  open  and  read.  Jt  wa^  from  Mr.  Fitzjarnes,  and  read  as 
follows  : 

" '  L.  H.'  decamped  last  night  with  all  the  available  funds.  Have 
written  you  full  particulars." 

For  a  moment  lie  was  stunned  beyond  all  power  of  motion.  Louis 
Hartley,  the  companion  of  seven  years,  during  which  not  one  sus- 
picion had  arisen  against  his  honor — the  protfye  of  that  kind  old 
gentleman  who  had  been  his  constant  Irieivl  and  protector — whosu 
loving  care  had  raised  him  to  the  very  position  which  enabled  him 
to  strike  such  a  dastardly  blow! 

The  black  ingratitude  of  Louis'  crime  gave  to  it  a  tinge  of  posi- 
tive horror,  undrr  which  Lisle  stood  as  if  spell-bound.  Then  his 
thoughts  reverted  to  his  uncle.  How  would  he  bear  this  utter  dis- 
appointment in  one  upon  whom  he  had  bestowed  an  affection  which 
made  each  benefit  heaped  upon  him  a  real  pleasure  to  the  donor, 
this  cowardly  act  of  the  son  of  the  woman  he  had  loved  even  beyond 
the  grave,  with  a  fervor  and  constancy  whose  light  was  reflected 
upon  her  boy ! 

Lis'e  knew  not  the  extent  of  the  business  injury  thus  inflicted — 
thought  not  of  the  possible  ruin  involving  himself  as  well  as  his 
uncle.  His  one  desire  was  to  go  to  the  poor  old  gentleman  at  once, 
and  give  him  such  consolation  as  he  could  impart;  but  deeming  it 
only  prudence  to  await  the  arrival  ot  the  letter  which  might  contain 
something  important  for  him  to  learn  at  once,  he  forced  himself  to 
do  so  with  outward  calmness.  Long  as  the  hours  seemed  in  the:r 
progress,  the  final  one  was  reached,  and  Mr.  Fitzjames'  letter  was 
received;  a  kind,  though  sorrowful  one,  in  which  he  merely  r  - 
peated  the  announcement  contained  in  the  telegram,  and  remarked 
that  Louis  had  seemed  moody  and  preoccupied  for  days  before  his 
flight,  and  was  impatient  under  every  effort  to  win  from  him  the 
cause  ot  his  evident  trouble ;  that  on  the  night  he  decamped,  ho 
hnd  excused  himself  at  an  early  hour,  contesting  that  he  was  ill  and 
wretched  ;  and  Mr.  Fitzjames  reproached  himself  that  he  had  not 
then  made  one  more  effort  to  gain  his  confidence,  as  he  was  aln 
assured  that  something  weighed  upon  his  mind  which  might  ev.  n 
then  have  been  explained,  and  so  averted  the  commission  of  ths 
deed.  But  he  had  suffered  him  to  depart  with  a  mere  good-night, 
and  in  the  morning  he  was  found  not  to  have  occupied  his  bed  at 
all,  while  evidence  oi  hasty  packing  implied  that  he  had  gone  in 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS.  129 

accordance  with  some  pre-arranged  plan  which  his  early  retiring 
wa-i  designed  to  aid. 

The  office  key  was  found  upon  his  table;  but  the  safe  had  been 
relieved  of  a  considerable  sum,  in  addition  to  which  he  was  discov- 
ered to  have  borrowed  a  few  hundred  dollars  for  which  he  had  given 
the  obligation  of  the  firm.  The  missing  amounts,  in  all,  made  about 
ten  thousand  dollars,  and  the  only  wonder  was  that  he  had  not 
trebled  the  sum,  as  he  so  easily  could  have  done. 

Throughout  the  whole  letter  there  breathed  a  spirit  of  patient  for- 
bearance which  put  Lisle's  wrath  to  shame  ;  but  the  request  with 
which  it  closed,  was  more  incredible  than  all  that  had  preceded  it. 

He  asked  as  a  personal  favor,  tliat  no  pursuit  should  be  made  after 
the  abscouder,  no  publicity  given  to  the  affair  in  official  quarters, 
and  that  Lisle  himself  should  bear  as  little  ill-will  against  the  of 
fender  as  possible ;  and  he  added  that  he  had  always  intended  to  be- 
queath to  Louis  a  sum  not  less  than  the  amount  to  which  he  had 
now  helped  himself,  and  that  doubtlessly  his  affairs  were  desperate 
and  pressing,  and  he  himself  was  not  blameless  if  he  had  kept  so 
poor  a  watch  and  guard  over  his  necessities.  He  added  that  he  had 
already  repaid  the  sums  borrowed  upon  the  credit  of  the  firm,  that 
it  might  stand  proud  and  honorable  before  the  world,  and  that,  after 
all,  ten  thousand  dollars  was  not  an  amount  of  sufficient  importance 
to  cause  any  great  consternation  at  its  loss;  it  was  better  to  consider 
it  au  unfortunate  investment,  and  so  let  it  drop. 

Lisle  refolded  his  uncle's  letter,  with  a  more  genuine  respect  for 
him  than  he  had  ever  experienced,  much  as  he  had  loved  and  hon- 
ored him.  Not  one  reproach  had  he  uttered  against  the  ingrate  who 
thus  wounded  him ;  not  one  regret  for  the  care  he  had  bestowed  so 
unceasingly  from  his  very  cradle !  Only  a  self-reproach  for  his  own 
failure  to  learn  the  wants  and  weaknesses  of  the  nature  his  fostering 
.affection  had  nurtured.  Any  other  man  so  suffering,  would  have 
mourned  the  ingratitude  that  thus  could  rob  a  benefactor  ;  he  only 
mourned  his  own  short-coming  in  having  rendered  it  possible  for  his 
fo.ster-son  thus  to  betray  him!  As  if  his  hand  had  held  the  tempta- 
tion up  before  him !  Lisle  remembered,  if  he  did  not,  that  Louis 
had  never  been  frank  and  open  in  his  deportment,  and  that  during 
those  days  of  his  tutorship,  this  want  of  candor  and  manliness  had 
given  his  benefactor's  he;irt  many  a  stab  of  cruel  pain  and  disap- 
pointment. Lisle  had  striven  to  like  him,  with  only  partial  success 
at  best,  and  many  a  time  had  argued  against  the  constantly  recur- 
ring presentiment  that  this  man  was  destined  to  work  him  some 


130  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

deep  wrong.  Instinctively  he  had  recognized  him  as  an  enemy;  and 
he  recalled  this,  now,  with  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  mysterious  iu- 
ward  monitor  whose  voice  he  had  temporarily  strangled  under  what 
he  deemed  the  force  of  reason. 

It  was,  then,  with  no  kind  feeling  towards  Louis  Hartley,  that  he 
made  his  adieus,  and  started  upon  his  return  home. 

Mr.  Fitzjaraes  received  him  with  more  than  his  usual  demonstra- 
tion of  affection,  and  assumed  a  cheerfulness  of  deportment  which 
it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  he  was  far  from  feeling  in  his  heart.  Do- 
spite  his  effort  to  keep  up  appearances,  he  looked  more  worn  and  old 
than  he  would  have  done  in  ten  ordinary  years.  That  he  was 
cut  to  the  he:irt  by  the  disgrace  Louis  had  brought  upon  himself,  as 
well  as  wrung  by  his  ingratitude  towards  him,  Lisle  could  well  un- 
derstand. He  had  hoped  so  much  for  him,  believed  so  entirely  in 
his  honor  and  rectitude  of  purpose,  even  when  most  disappointed 
by  that  manifest  lack  of  ambition  to  assume  a  desirable  position  in 
life,  which  others  had  commented  upon  since  he  left  college.  This 
radical  want  in  his  character,  Mr.  Fitzjames  ha.i  obviated  by  himself 
establishing  him  in  a  position  where  with  anything  like  attention  to 
business,  he  could  not  fail  of  success.  All  his  hopes  were  shattered 
by  this  fell  blow,  and  in  his  old  age  he  was  doomed  to  see  his  years 
of  loving  care  brought  to  worse  than  nothing,  his  foster  son  a  repro- 
bate. It  was  no  wonder  that  his  kind  face  grew  suddenly  aged, 
and  his  frame  bent  as  though  under  the  weight  of  additional  years. 

Lisle's  eyes  grew  misty  as  he  looked  upon  him  and  realized  all  he 
must  be  suffering  so  uncomplainingly ;  but  no  allusion  to  it  ever 
passed  his  lips,  and  only  in  the  unprecedented  tenderness  of  his  man- 
ner, did  he  evidence  that  the  subject  had  attracted  an  hour's  thought. 
Day  by  day  the  old  gentleman  leaned  more  heavily  upon  his  cane, 
and  from  having  led  a  life  of  unusual  activity  for  one  of  his  years, 
he  now  seldom  went  out  at  all,  but,  seated  in  his  easy  chair  at  home, 
bent  his  eyes  for  hours  upon  the  unturned  page  in  his  book,  ever 
and  anon  taking  off  his  spectacles,  which  were  unaccountably  blurred 
and  dimmed,  and  wiping  them  with  a  slow  indecision  very  different 
from  his  former  briskness  of  manner.  In  vain  Lisle  strove  to  re- 
nwake  his  interest  in  outside  affairs.  The  old  gentleman  shook  his 
head  wo;irily,  as  he  strove  to  smile. 

"  1  never  felt  any  sympathy  with  the  dying  war  horse  that  pricks 
up  its  ears  at  the  sound  of  tho  combat.  When  nature  says  '  lie  still, 
you  have  done  your  job  sleek  aud  clean,'!  don't  believe  in  brushing 
around  like  a  distracted  comet !  I  Invo  lost  my  ambition  in  accord- 


THE   HOUSE   I5EUIXD   THE   POrLARS.  131 

ance  witli  some  plan  of  higher  origin  than  my  own  will,  and  if  my 
part  in  the  programme  is  merely  to  doze  in  the  chimney  corner,  it 
certainly  involves  no  great  risk  to  life  or  limb,  and  I'll  e'en  try  it.  I 
believe  Bill  is  making  love  in  a  fat;y  way  to  '  Militia,'  as  he  calls  her, 
•and  Fin  getting  to  be  quite  useful  as  the  receptacle  for  Mrs.  Drew's 
maternal  trouble  in  consequence.  I  suppose  Bill  diurnally  over-eats, 
and  imagines  his  suffering  in  consequence,  to  be  the  pangs  of  love. 
I'm  at  no  loss  for  amusement  in  my  quiet  corner  here." 

It  was  a  cheerful  evasion  of  Lisle's  argument,  but  left  him  no 
course  save  that  of  submission  to  the  new  order  of  things  ;  and  ho 
yielded  it,  only  condensing  his  business  into  the  briefest  possible 
space  of  time  each  day,  and  spending  every  leisure  hour  by  the  old 
gentleman's  side. 

Thus  sitting  together  one  evening,  they  received  their  letters  by  a 
belated  post ;  and  fully  occupied  by  his  own,  Lisle  did  not  iook  up 
till  a  g.isp  from  his  uncle  caused  him  to  do  so  in  alarm.  In  his 
trembling-hand  he  held  a  letter  of  which  Lisle  only  noticed  that  the 
caligraphy  was  fine  and  clear,  like  a  lady's  ;  and  large  tears  coursed 
down  his  furrowed  cheeks  as  he  regarded  the  inanimate  sheet  in  a 
sad,  pitying  manner  affecting  to  witness.  Rising,  Lisle  laid  his  hand 
tenderly  on  the  old  gentleman's  head,  and  for  a  moment  neither  ut- 
tered a  word.  Then  softly  smoothing  with  his  hand  the  page  upon 
which  his  ey<-s  yet  lingered,  as  if  it  some  way  were  sensible  of  the 
caress,  he  said  sorrowfully,  re;igning  it  to  Lis'e, 

"  There,  my  boy,  burn  this,  here  before  my  eyes,  that  nothing  may 
ever  bare  it  to  the  scrutiny  of  others.  It  is  a  sad,  sad  world,  Lisle. 
and  when  one  has  staggered  under  as  many  blows  as  I  have,  a  light 
one  ove;  conies,  at  last.  I'm  a  weak  old  man  now.  Ah,  me  !" 

Lisle  took  the  proffered  letter,  and  lighting  it  at  the  gas  flame, 
held  it  till  it  burned  to  cinder,  and  to  sed  the  charred  sheet  into  the 
yard.  His  uncle  watched  it  with  pitying  eyes,  and  when  all  was 
consumed,  fell  back  in  his  chair,  while  a  spasm  of  p-un  swept  over 
his  face,  followed  by  a  cold  rigidity,  and  his  hands  groped  aiml  ssly 
about  him.  Lislo  raised  him  in  his  arms  and  bore  him  to  a  sola 
Unclosing  his  eyes  the  old  gentleman  murmured  something  of ''  pity 
and  protection,"  couple  I  with  a  name  Lisle  did  not  catch.  Some 
unconquerable  difficulty  obstructed  his  utterance,  for  otten  as  he  es- 
sayed to  explain,  the  words  refuse  1  obedience  to  his  will,  an  I  only 
a  confused  murmur  succeeded  to  the  effort.  Lisle  realized  then  that  a 
paralyse  attack  had  overpowered  the  poor  old  man,  and  that  tho 


132  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

story  he  strove  to  tell  might  never  be  related  by  the  lips  which  no 
lunger  yiejded  their  allegiance  to  his  will. 

Thus  he  lingered  for  days,  intelligent  as  before  this  misfortune, 
but  utterly  powerless  physically,  and  it  was  grievous  to  watch  the 
eager  expression  in  his  eyes  so  filled  with  a  sad  longing ;  to  realize, 
at  every  moment,  his  useless  efforts  to  relieve  his  mind  of  the  burden 
upon  it.  In  such  strength  of  mind  and  body  as  he  had  yet,  to  have 
expected  he  would  not,  even  to  Lisle,  have  wished  to  reveal  the 
burden  of  that  fatal  letter;  his  wish  that  it  should  be  burned,  was 
sufficient  evidence  of  his  desire  to  bury  it  in  his  own  breast ;  but 
with  the  hand  of  death  upon  him,  his  inability  to  make  known  his 
wishes  was  a  torture,  whose  expression  was  promptly  lined  upon  his 
fuce. 

So  he  lingered  for  a  few  weary  days,  and  death  took  him,  at  last, 
with  the  mental  burden  unrelieved — life's  closing  page  a  sealed  mys- 
tery. 

So  Louis  Hartley's  crime  h»d  done  its  work  upon  his  benefactor. 
Whatever  had  been  the  final  blow,  his  had  weakened  and  under- 
mined the  strength  that  otherwise  had  been  sufficient  to  have  met 
it:  and  Lisle  regarded  him  as  his  uncle's  murderer. 

His  debt  to  him  was  increasing,  and  he  vowed  to  repay  it  if  ever 
they  crossed  each  others  path.  That  they  should  yet  do  so,  he  felt 
an  absolute  faith.  Even  though  pursuit  might  not.  even  now,  be 
fruitless,  Lisle  yielded  his  wishes  to  his  uncle's,  and  firmly  resolved 
never  to  seek  him ;  but  if  there  were  any  magnetism  in  hate,  that 
could  lure  him  within  his  reach,  he  would  repay  at  least  the  last  half 
of  his  debt  of  vengeance.  The  man  who  could  commit  such  a  deed  as 
he  had  been  guilty  of,  would  incur  the  penalty  of  the  law  for  others ; 
and  in  fate's  good  time  he  should  have  him  at  his  mercy.  For  that 
hour  he  would  watch  and  wait.  Wait  with  an  ever  accumulating 
hatred  "  toward  him  and  his,"  intensified  by  the  utter  isolation  of  heart 
and  sympathy  imposed  upon  him  by  the  death  of  this  one  friend  and 
companion,  whose  love  was  wholly  unmixed  with  pain,  whose  kind- 
:i  I  protection  had  been  a  free-will  offering  uninfluenced  by  a 
s  n«e  of  duty. 

Lisle  pressed  his  hat  over  his  corrugated  brow  as  he  turned  from 
his  uncle's  grave,  and  returning  to  his  desolate  home,  he  gave  full 
sway  to  the  torrent  of  grief  and  misanthropy  which  overwhelmed 
him. 

Nature  was  at  last  avenging  herself  for  the  weeks  of  stern  control 
that  had  checked  and  concealed  so  many  varying  emotions ;  and, 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLARS.  133 

completely  unmanned,  he  lay  silently  upon  the  sofa  where  he  had 
thrown  himself,  neither  answering  nor  hearing  Mrs.  Drew's  repeated 
appeals  to  him,  from  the  threshold  of  the  inexorable  door  he  had 
locked  between  himself  and  the  outer  world. 


134  TTT^   TTorSK  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  Xlll. 

"  MISTER  Sterling,  I  take  it  right  ongratcful  of  you  to  fly  in  tlio 
face  of  Providence  in  this  w;iy,  which  it  is  likewise  ouaccountaltle  to 
man  or  woman,  and  Lord  only  knows  why  you're  bent  on  emigrating 
yourself  off  to  the  fur  South,  where,  what  with  its  yalkr  fevers,  and 
its  break-bone  f^veis,  an  I  its  fever  and  agues  as  is  born  there,  is 
enough  to  make  ones  h.-.ir  stand  on  end  !  What  can  you  be  looking 
to  find  down  th  re,  asuie  o(  these,  that  you  haven't  in  tenfold  lure  ?'' 
observed  Mrs.  Drew,  pulling  nervously  at  her  cap  strings,  from  her 
position  behind  the  coffee  urn  at  which  she  presided  during  Lisle' s 
now  solitary  meals. 

"  I  shall  provide  for  you,  Mr*.  Drew,"  he  replied  laconically. 

Mrs.  Drew  resented  the  insinuation,  and  replied  with  feminine 
spirit, 

"  It  isn't  myself  which  I  have  in  my  mind's  eye,  Mister  Sterling,  for 
all  you  are  beset  to  think  that  if  any  one  speak*,  it  must  be  for  him- 
self or  herself,  as  the  c&s^e  may  be.  Thank  foitune,  as  a  respectable 
woman  as  knows  her  duties  and  is  yet  young  enough  to  perform  'em 
— let  alone  matcrniouy  itself — needn't  be  an  object  for  'providing,' 
to  any  gentleman,  if  he  have  just  stepped  into  a  propeity !" 

"  I  beg  your  j  ardon,  Mrs.  Drew.  I  only  meant  to  s-ay  that  I  shall 
not  sell  this  house,  and  that  I  shall  be  obliged  if  you  will  remain  in 
it  till  a  suitable  tenant  c.m  be  found,  when  I  will  see  that  you  are 
comfort  ibly  located  either  here  or  elsewhere.  Sometime,  and  some- 
vrhere,  I  shall  have  a  home  of  my  own,  and  I  shall  rely  upon  you  to 
preside  over  it  as  you  have  done  over  my  uncle's  so  many  ye  >rs. 
Will  you  come  to  me,  then,  despite  fevers,  and  other  unnauiable 
horrors  ?" 

"  Which  I  most  certainly  will !  I'll  shake  with  chills  and  fever,  in 
your  cause,  with  pleasure  and  heartiness;  and  why  not,  being  as  I  ve 
been  a  sort  of  lowly  mother  to  you  these  many  years.  I  was  only 
bemoaning  as  you  should  be  toOk  with  restlessness  as  you  should  go 
running  your  head  into  you  know  nothing  whatsrever  how  many 


THE  HOUSE  BEIIIND  THE  POPLARS.  135 

dangers  as  is  vexing,  and  may  have  right  smart  of  ill  luck.  Why, 
bless  us,  with  your  handsome  fortune  and  good  looks,  what  couldn't- 
you  marry  in  the  shape  of  a  fine,  showy  wife,  as  would  make  you  as 
lovely  a  pair  of  matermonials  as  eyes  ever  looked  on;  and  you 
wouldn't  know  your  own  house  and  home,  it  would  be  such  a" — 

"  Pandemonium,"  interrupted  Lisle. 

"For  all  the  world!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Drew;  but  she  uttered  tho 
apparent  suggestion  in  quite  a  different  spirit  from  the  one  borne 
upon  the  face  of  it, 'surprise,  not  unmixed  with  indignation,  having 
betrayed  her  into  a  favorite  expression. 

''  Yes,  that's  just  i',"  Lisle  replied,  provoldngly  pretending  to  mis- 
interpret the  spirit  of  her  remark.  "It  is  bad  enough  to  be  turned 
•nock  and  heels  out  of  the  mastery  of  ones  own  premises,  into  which 
if  one  henceforth  ventures  to  bring  an  unexpected  friend  they  both 
suffer  the  pricks  of  figurative  pins  and  needier,  with  an  explosion 
every  moment  threatening ;  but  that  the  world  should  thus  come  in 
for  a  matrimonial  share  of  discomfort,  isn't  a  '  soothing  reflection,' 
ns  the  immortal  Pecksniff  would  have  it." 

"  Whatever  is  it  sets  people's  brains  into  such  a  whirl  of  contrari- 
ness !  Far  am  I  from  meaning  this  which  you  understand !  That 
I,  being  a  woman  which  has  a  daughter  as  is  matermoninlly  sought 
— howsoever  troublesome  and  onsatisfactory  to  myself — should  so  go 
t?  testify  against  the  marriage  state,  which  I  ought,  con£r«irywise  to 
praise,  which  I  do.  Oh.  Mr.  Sterling,  I'm  afraid  you  belong  to  that 
inisfortunatc  class  as  is  naturally  unmatermonial  !" 

"  I  think  I  do.  But  to  return  to  the  original  subject.  I  do  not  leave, 
this  place  in  any  spirit  of  restlessness.  It  is  simply  impossible  for 
me  to  remain  in  it,  changed  as  everything  is  to  me  since  uncle's 
death,  and  I  shall  sooner  rally  to  a  real  interest  in  life,  if  I  am  n- 
tirely  away  from  associations  which  every  hour  oppress  me  with 
unavailing  regrets.  This  IK. use,  this  whole  city,  weigh  like  an 
incubus  upon  me,  and  I  can  better  bear  my  loneliness  anywheie 
el*e." 

Mrs.  Drew  was  a  naturally  kind-hearted  woman  whose  sympathies 
were  always  keen  enough  when  aroused ;  though  a  life  of  homely 
duties  and  narrow  experiences  had  rendered  her  a  little  obtuse 
where  the  cnse  was  not  a  marked  one.  She  had  been  sincerely  at- 
tached to  Mr.  Fitzjames  during  the  many  years  she  had  served  him, 
and  from  his  boyhood  Lisle  h  id  been  a  favorite  with  her,  despite  tho 
oftentimes  sarcastic  manner  under  which  he  rendered  her  illy  at 
ease ;  so  she  wiped  away  a  few  real  tears  that  gathered  in  her  eyes 


136  THE  DOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAK9. 

and  maintained  a  little  silence  before  broaching  a  topic  which  lay 
near  her  heart. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Sterling,  which  though  I  was  your  uncle's  house- 
keeper for  many  years,  I  am  not  yet  an  elderly  person ;  very  far  from 
it,  being  that  my  Melissy  was  born  when  I  was  in  my  seventeenth 
year,  which  she  is  not  yet  twenty.  Being  that  you  nre  such  a  young 
gentleman,  I  will  tell  you  in  confidence,  begging  you  won't  mention 
lit,  I  am  in  my  seven-and-thirtieth  year,  which  you  wouldn't  think 
it,  would  you  ?  The  widowed  state  is  a  very  oncomfortable  state 
for  an  enterprising  woman  to  submit  to,  and  being  that  I've  sup- 
ported it  for  many  years,  I'm  now  an  engaged  person.  It  is  only 
right  you  should  know  it,  so  I  tell  you  I'm  an  engaged  person." 

"  Indeed  !     "Who  is  the  chosen  individual  ?" 

"Being  as  it  is  one  as  is  unbeknownst  to  you,  I  tell  you  that  he  is 
named  Joseph  Perkins,  which,  though  somewhat  young  to  be  a  father 
to  my  Melissy,  is  of  no  account,  being  as  she  is  determined  to  cling 
to  Billy,  useless  as  he  is !  Poor  girl ;  my  heart  aches  me  as  I  think 
how  her  li(e  will  be  just  cooked  and  stewed  out  of  her,  along  of  his 
stomic  as  is  never  satisfied.  I've  never  seen  him  filled  up  yet,  though 
many  is  the  time  I've  tried  to  do  it.  The  hoe-cake,  and  the  gumbo, 
and  tho  sweet-potatoe  pudding  that  Billy  will  cram  into  himself  is 
enough  to  bust  an  elephant!" 

In  her  excitement  Mrs.  Drew  fanned  herself  into  complete  obliv- 
iousne.-s  of  anything  but  Billy  and  his  internal  capacities,  and  Lisle 
recalled  her  attention  to  her  own  prospects. 

"  Which  sure  enough  I  hadn't  gone  on  to  tell  you ;  and  no  wonder, 
what  with  the  st;ite  of  wonderment  that  Billy  puts  me  iti  to.  His 
internal  improvements  must  be  made  of  cast-iron,  or  they'd  certainly 
give  out  on  him  !  Such  wear  and  tear  would  be  death  on  mere  huinao 
organs  1  About  my  Joseph,  which  I'm  coming  to  him.  I  don't 
know  but  we  shall  be  married  right  away,  and  1  hope  as  you  won't 
object  to  take  him  likewise  into  your  service,  with  me.  He  is  as  en- 
terprising a  young  man  as  you'll  bee,  and  has  many  a  year  good  work 
in  him,  being  that  he  is  now  just  one-aud-twenty  years  old." 

"  Suppose  you  were  to  adopt  him  as  a  son,  instead  of  accepting  so 
young  a  man  for  your  husband  ?  It  seems  to  me  this  would  be  more 
fauitable  in  a  matron  of  your  years,"  suggested  Lisle. 

"  And  remain  in  a  widowed  state  fifteen  years  more  ?  No.  He 
will  make  me  a  very  serviceable  husband  against  my  old  age,  being 
that  I  can't  always  work  as  I  do  now,  and  a  young  partner  is  better 
than  two  which  are  old  and  broken  down.  Adopting  and  marry- 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  -137 

ing  are  two  different  things,  which  my  desire  is  for  matermo  y. 
You'll  keep  a  place  open  for  my  Joseph,  Mr.  Sterling  ?" 

"Yes,  but  if  Bill  and  Melissa  marry,  I  want  it  distinctly  nncV-i-- 
stood  that  I  have  no  house-room  for  them.  Bill  will  come  to  no  good, 
and  I  don't  want  him  around.  Besides,  your  husband  should  have 
none  but  good  examples  before  him,  and  Bill  would  be  a  bad  asso- 
ciate. Perhaps,  if  you  are  to  be  married,  you  would  prefer  remain- 
ing here  altogether,  instead  of  accepting  any  other  situation  till  I  am 
ready  for  you.  I  will  instruct  my  agent  so  to  arrange  for  you,  if  you 
wish." 

"  I  make  bold  enough  to  say  I  do  wish.  As  for  Bill  and  Melissy, 
I  don't  care  how  soon  you  set  them  adrift,  as  it  don't  seem  fitting 
which  my  Joseph  should  be  father-in-lawing  them  as  is  so  near  hia 
own  age.  Me  and  Joseph'll  be  better  off  without  'em,  and  if  it  is  to  be 
matermony  between  'em,  why  matermony  let  it  be  !  I've  struggled 
a  many  years  to  keep  her  and  her  dresses  straight,  which  crooked 
both  of  them  still  are,  and  crooked  they'll  go  on ;  which  I  can  do  no 
more !" 

"  Permit  me  to  wish  you  all  a  very  happy  honeymoon,  Mrs. 
Drew,"  and  with  a  rather  ironical  bow,  he  took  his  hat  and  went 
out. 

Lisle  had,  as  this  conversation  implied,  decided  to  dissolve  his 
business  connection  with  the  city  of  Louisville,  and  sc4k  a  residence 
farther  South.  Of  too  restless  a  temperament  to  be  content  with  a 
life  of  inaction,  which  his  fortune  as  his  uncle's  heir  by  bequest  now 
enabled  him  to  pursue,  had  he  so  chosen,  he  had  arranged  a  co-part- 
nership with  a  friend,  under  the  style  of  Sterling  &  Bertram,  and 
the  new  house  was  to  be  opened  immediately  in  the  chosen  location. 
The  farewell  calls  were  punctiliously  made,  the  customary,  sometimes 
sincere  expressions  of  regret  received  with  the  degree  of  acknowl- 
edgment to  which  he  considered  them  entitled,  and  Lisle  was  abont 
to  depart  from  the  scene  of  so  many  happy  hours,  the  home  more 
desolate,  now,  from  the  very  remembrance  of  all  it  had  been  to  him 
during  his  uncle's  life.  Painful  as  it  was  to  him  to  remain  in  it,  this 
departure  was  scarcely  less  so,  and  he  abbreviated  it  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. Already  his  trunk  was  on  the  carriage  at  the  door,  and  he 
was  gathering  the  last  few  articles  in  a  valise,  when  a  rather  osten- 
tatious sobbing  at  the  door  caused  him  to  turn  toward  it. 

There  stood  Melissa  with  her  apron  to  her  eyes,  her  low  necked 
dress-waist  as  usual  twisted  far  under  one  arm,  with  a  protruding 
whale-bone  threatening  her  chin,  and  hair  guiltless  of  comb  or  brush 


138  TIIE  HOUSE  BEII1XD  THE  POPLJLK3. 

for  an  indefinite  period.  She  had  never  been  a  favorite  with  Lisle, 
who^e  first  impression  of  her  had  proved  durable,  as  first  impressions 
usually  are,  and  annoyed  by  her  proximity  he  said  curtly, 

'•  I  have  no  desire  to  cut  short  one  snivel  which  you  consider 
proper  under  the  circumstxnces,  but  you  will  oblige  me  by  airing 
them  out  on  the  gallery.  If  you  want  anything,  say  so." 

Melissa  assumed  an  air  of  injured  virtue  as  she  replied,  still  with 
her  apron  before  her  eyes,  but  administering  a  surreptitious  push  to 
the  pugulistic  whalebone. 

"  You  never  did  give  me  credit  for  any  decent  feelings,  and  you've 
never  treated  me  like  a  human  ;  but  I  always  liked  you,  and  so  did 
Billy,  for  all  you've  never  quit  snubbing  him  with  might  and  nvtin.'' 

"  Oh.  I  see,''  Lisle  interrupted.  "  You  and  the  fat  boy  are  going 
to  make  a  biilliant  match,  and  you  want  me  to  give  it  my  protec- 
tion. Once  for  all,  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  If  you  mar  ;y 
him  despite  your  mother's  good  advice,  you  must  accept  the  conse- 
quences. I  dare  not  trust  him  around  the  office,  and  I  would  not 
have  him  under  my  roof  in  any  capacity.  If  he  loses  the  place  I  se- 
cured for  him  when  I  assumed  coatrol  here,  he  will  have  no  one  to 
depend  upon  in  future  but  himself.  You  had  batter  listen  to  your 
mother,  and  so  avoid  trouble  ;  lor  you  will  be  miserable  if  you  marry 
the  graceless  scamp." 

"  '  Listen  to  mother  !'  A  pretty  one  sJif  is  to  listen  to,  with  her 
he  id  full  of  Joe  Perkins !  I  an't  going  to  be  father-in-lawe  1  around 
by  him,  and  no  more  au't  Billy.  You'd  better  talk  to  her  about  be- 
ing miserable  with  a  '  graceless  scamp.'  I'd  rather  be  the  missis  of 
a  scamp  than  a  lout,  any  day ;  and  a  lout  Joe  Perkins  is,  as  you  11 
see.  If  Billy  ever  does  take  to  bad  ways,  I  only  hope  you  won't 
blame  yourself  for  it — a  turning  of  him  off  after  all  those  years  he's 
done  for  your  uncle  as  is  dead  and  gone!" 

"  Thank  you,  I  never  shall.  Be  good  enough  to  carry  down  this 
valise,  and  here's  a  good-bye  for  you.  Don't  lay  it  out  upon  Billy's 
'internal  improvements,'  but  buy  yourself  a  gown  witu  it — your 
wedding  one  if  you  will.'" 

Seeing  that  nothing  more  was  to  be  gained,  Melissa  accepted  tr.e 
gift  with  a  sulky  courtesy,  and  watched  the  carriage  as  it  rolled 
aw.iy  with  Lisle  sitting  sadly  upon  the  cushions  by  the  closed  win- 
dow.    Thoughts  of  his  first  ride  through  these  streets  filled  his 
mind.     Then,  a  timid,  feeble  boy,  he  had  felt  that  his  very  pr. 
in  that  city  was  due  to  a  species  of  banishment  from  his  horn 
ta.it  lie  had  nothing  to  hope  for  beyond  his  uncle's  good  will,  or 


THE  HOUSE   UiinXL)   THE   POI'LARS.  139 

possibly  friendship,  and  that  he  was  to  be  a  useless  dependent  all 
his  lifetime.  Now  he  was  a  solf-ussured  man,  whose  position  ren- 
dered him  an  object  of  envy  to  some,  of  social  in  ichinations  to  many. 
Fair  laides  would  accept  his  name  in  consideration  of  his  fortune, 
whatever  they  might  have  thought  of  his  individual  merits  without 
this  assistance  into  their  good  graces ;  and,  what  was  far  more  to 
him,  the  business  world  now  accorded  him  a  respect  and  confidence 
based  as  much  upon  his  well-known  probity  as  upon  the  tangible 
funds  that  supported  it.  He  had  gained  all  to  which  he  could  have 
aspired,  yet  he  was  far  from  happy.  Scarcely  less  lonely  and  mis- 
erable was  the  little  boy  who  year?  before  had  looked  out  through 
the  dreary  rain  and  spatteiing  mud  upon  these  same  streets  over- 
looking the  river.  What  was  it  which  gave  other  men  an  object  in 
life — something  to  hope,  to  toil,  to  scheme  for  \  Often  as  he  had 
queried  of  himself,  the  question  was  no  nearer  answered.  Was  every 
man  a  hypocrite  to  his  own  heart,  and  to  the  world,  or  were  there  a 
favored  few  whose  outward  deportment  was  a  reflection  of  the  con- 
tentment within?  Would  that  man  ever  be  found  who  had  the 
frankness  and  fortitude  to  make  a  full  confession  as  to  how  much 
was  real  and  what  was  but  seeming !  Lisle  himself  would  not  havo 
done  so,  and  he  judged  others  by  himself. 

The  steamer  was  ready  to  leave  the  levee  as  he  stepped  on  board, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bertram  were  impatiently  awaiting  him.  Mr. 
Bertram,  Lisle's  co-partner,  was  a  reserved  gentleman  some  years  his 
senior,  and,  anything  but  a  gallant  husband,  his  pretty  little  wife 
levied  sometimes  severe  contributions  upon  her  male  friends.  Lisle 
liked  her  truthfulness  and  freedom  from  affectation,  and  as  she  was 
attached  to  many  gayeties  for  which  her  older  and  more  sedate  hus- 
band entertained  a  decided  dislike,  Lisle  had  gradually  become  her 
reliable  escort,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  both  husband  and  wife. 
They  greeted  him,  now,  as  belated  fellow-travellers  are  usually  re- 
ceived at  the  last  moment,  and  Mrs  Bertram  had  soon  made  him 
the  repository  of  her  travelling-bag,  a  heavy  shawl,  a  novel,  a  para- 
sol, and  a  few  more  of  those  outer  defences  for  feminine  travelling, 
inseparable  from  the  institution. 

Mrs.  Bertram  breathed  a  little  sigh,  as  she  said, 
'•Dear  old  Louisville  :  my  heart  quite  aches  at  leaving  it !" 
"  Then  perhaps  it  sympathizes  with  my  arms,"  said  Lisle  patheti- 
cally, looking  down  upon  the  burden  they  supported.     "  I  must  look 
up^some  able-bodied  darkey  who  will  take  the  contract  to  carry  all 
these  indispensables  ;  for,  really,  my  constitution  is  delicate!" 


140  TUB   HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPUAJIS. 

Mrs.  Bertram  received  the  sally  with  a  laugh;  Wut  her  h&baritb 
protested  with  real  impatience, 

"  Really,  Mattie,  it  is  shameful  the  way  in  which  you  ladies  impose 
upon  gentleman  who  are  not  in  a  condition  to  remonstrate  against 
it !  A  man  feels  like  an  idiot,  sweating  under  a  load  ol  feminine 
traps  as  high  as  his  chin  !  I'd  rather  be  whipped  than  to  travel  with 
a  lady,  anyway,  but  as  though  forty  trunks  and  baud-boxes  were  not 
enough,  there  must  always  be  a  miscellaneous  collection  ol  small  am_ 
munition,  like  this.  To  make  a  ma>i  a  complete  fool,  you  ought  al- 
ways to  make  him  carry  a  bouquet.  I've  pitched  them  into  the  gut- 
ter so  many  times  that  I've  quite  worked  myself  off  duty ;  but  Ster- 
ling would  probably  submit  indefinitely.  Sterling,  rise  up,  once  rbr 
all  time,  and  dump  that  load  into  the  river." 

Mrs.  Bertram  directly  placed  her  fan  upon  the  top  of  the  collec- 
tion in  Lisle's  custody,  and  turning  toward  her  husband,  playfully 
retorted, 

"  That  is  just  the  way  with  you  Benedicts.  No  sooner  do  you 
throw  off  the  lingering  remains  of  your  gallantry,  than  you  fly  to 
emancipate  all  your  much  enduring  brothers.  I  know  my  rights 
and  privileges,  and  I  don't  intend  to  resign  them  till  I'm  thirty  at 
least.  I  know  Sterling  is  incorruptible  even  by  your  b.id  example.'1 

"  Well,  if  you  resign  at  thirty,  Sterling  has  but  one  year  more  of 
servitude.  Doubtlessly  he  will  endure  that." 

"What  a  malicious  observation,"  Mrs  Bertram  exclaimed  with 
some  real  as  well  as  simulated  spirif,  ior  though  good-natured,  she 
was  a  woman.  "  You  know  I'm  not  yet  twenty-five ;  though  it 
may  be  that  matrimonial  cares  and  vexations  are  prematurely  fading 
me.  One  thing  is  very  certain,  I  haven't  sunk  under  the  burden  of 
politeness." 

"Nonsense,  Mattie,  be  as  good  as  you  are  beautiful,  and  relievo 
Sterling  of  that  ridiculous  trumpery.  The  truth  is,  Sterling,  shu 
meant  to  have  put  all  that  into  her  trunks ;  but  the  hinges  began  to 
creak,  and  she  had  to  call  John  off  the  cover ;  but  thank  fortune, 
you've  a  state-room,  Mattie,  in  which  all  this  out-ide  matter  can  be 
safely  put  to  bed." 

"  Mrs.  Bertram,  shall  I  have  the  felicity  of  escorting  you  to  your 
room?'' asked  Lisle,  bowing  profoundly  as  he  added  a  shawl  and 
valise  near  to  the  articles  ho  knew  were  hers,  and  prepared  to  carry 
them  all.  An  old  lady  sitting  near,  made  a  nervous  clutch  at  her 
personal  effects  as  Lisle  thus  levied  upon  them ;  but  without  having 
seen  it  Mrs.  Bertram  interposed, 


HOUSE  BEUItfi)  TUB  POPLARS.  14 1 

"  For  pily's  sake  don't  add  insult  to  injury.  Those  are  not  mine, 
Here,  make  over  my  accoutrements,  and  let  ine  set  you  an  example 
in  bearing  the  burdens  of  life." 

Lisle  bore  them  to  her  state-room  door,  from  which  she  soon  after- 
ward emerged  serenely,  with  no  encumbrance  excepting  the  novel, 
to  which  she  addressed  herself  without  rejoining  her  persecutors. 
She  was  very  piquant  and  pretty,  and  her  husband  evidently  thought 
so,  despite  the  abruptness  of  his  manner  towards  her,  and  her  ani- 
mation and  spirit  were  quite  refreshing  compared  with  the  Inzy 
gentility  so  many  pretty  women  affect.  Lisle  liked  her  beyond  any 
woman  he  had  ever  met ;  so,  having  watched  her  till  the  air  of  in- 
difference with  which  she  opened  the  book  had  given  place  to  one 
of  real  interest,  he  approached  and  interrupted  her. 

If  there  is  ever  a  time  when  one's  best  friend  is  de  trop,  it  is  when 
one  is  absorbed  in  an  interesting  book ;  and,  knowing  this  as  well  as 
most  people,  Lisle  fully  expected  some  intimation  of  it,  whose  very 
naturalness  would  amuse  him.  She  did  not  look  iip  even  when  he 
seated  himself  near  her;  but  determined  to  interrupt  her,  he  said, 

"I  have  come  to  be  amused.  Your  lord  is  deeply  absorbed  in 
some  business  discussion  out  there,  and  I  must  offer  my  condolences 
to  his  neglected  wife." 

She  looked  up  a  little  impatiently,  as  she  replied, 

"  You  won't  get  me  to  indulge  in  any  heroics  upon  the  score  of 
neglect.  Upon  the  contrary,  I  will  pardon  similar  conduct  upon 
your  part,  just  now,  as  this  book  renders  me  very  forgiving." 

"  Thank  you,'1  said  Lisle  rising  and  bowing  over  his  hat ;  "  that  is 
r.s  much  as  to  say,  that,  having  nothing  for  me  to  do,  you  prefer  my 
absence.  You  should  never  tolerate  any  one  near  you  unless  you 
intend  to  render  him  useful.  If  you  should  chance  to  want  me  to 
swim  ashore  with  your  trunks,  in  case  of  collision,  fire,  or  snag,  do 
me  the  honor  to  command  me." 

"  There :  don't  go  away.  How  provoking  you  masculines  are ! 
You  never  consider  anything,  but  put  on  your  little  airs  at  a  word. 
rVho  tells  you  that  ladies  never  mind  any  interruption  ?  You  won't 
deny  that  you  never  lose  an  opportunity  to  tease  me,  and  that  while 
1  remain  young  and  comparatively  well-looking  you  never  will  lo;e 
one !  I  have  borne  and  forborne,  lor  two  all-sufficient  reasons  :  first 
because  you  are  a  good  beau  who  finds  favor  ia  my  husband's  sight, 
while  all  the  young  ladies  are  as  jealous  and  envious  of  me  as  any 
woman  could  desire;  and  secondly,  I  like  you  despite  your  imper- 
fections, which  are  more  numerous  than  you  think.  Yes,  really ; 


142  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

but  if  I  didn't  like  you  I  -would  c^ase  to  cultivate  patience  towards 
you ;  for  I'm  quite  in  earnest  when  I  declare  that  I  wouldn't  excuse 
in  Bertram  one  half  which  I  do  in  you." 

''  That  is  the  penalty  one  pays  for  being  your  husband.  There  ! 
isn't  that  rather  pretty,  for  me  ?  Though,  to  be  frank,  I  would 
rather  be  the  never- so  useful  friend  of  any  lady,  than  her  husband." 

"  Ah,  but  you  will  come  to  misfortune  yet !  Somewhere  in  this 
,  fabled  South,  matrimony  will  swoop  down  upon  you,  and  thus  avenge 
the  wrongs  of  my  long  enduring  sex." 

"  Yes,  you  do  endure  a  long  time ;  truly  said.  One  woman  will 
worry  a  regular  series  of  husbands  out  of  existence.  But  do  prom- 
ise me  that  when  these  evil  days  come  upon  me,  and  I  am  locked 
out  for  not  being  in  by  '  early  candle  lu>ht,'  or  doomed  dinnerless  to 
the  attic,  you  will  give  me  a  hospitable  loaf  and  a  lodging  corner. 
I  shall  need  friends." 

"I  don't  imagine  that  even  your  wife  would  ever  venture  to  take 
such,  liberties  with  you,  nor  indeed  any  others,"  Mrs.  Bertram  replied 
very  seriously. 

Lisle  laughed,  "  I  wish  I  thought  so  too ;  but,  unfortunately,  wives 
are  no  respecters  of  (their  husbands'1)  persons,  and  I've  no  doubt  that 
the  wife  of  'the  Father  of  his  Country'  gloried  in  the  remembrance 
of  many  a  curtain  scene  in  which  she  had  '  done  him  justice,'  (isn't 
that  the  term?)  Am  I  greater  than  he,  greater  than  Socrates,  that  I 
should  escape  ?" 

"  Horrible  fellow !     '  Justice '  will  be  a  fearful  work  in  your  case !" 

"  No  doubt.  But  it  is  a  woman's  besetting  sin  to  take  a  man  at  a 
disadvantage,  and  then  glorify  over  it.  Who  hasn't  heard  old  ladies 
exclaim  over  some  rising  genius  who  was  making  a  noise  in  the 
world, '  Law  !  I've  taken  him  across  my  knee  no  end  of  times !'  Every 
one  knows  what  taking  across  one's  knee  means — '  gentle  warmings,1 
&c.  Is  that  it  ?" 

"  Lisle  Sterling,  where  did  you  pick  up  your  ideas  of  women ! 
Have  you  no  mother  or  sisters  ?"  Mrs.  Bertram  asked,  reprovingly. 

A  tinge  passed  electrically  over  him,  and  he  replied,  gravely, 

"I  have  both  ;  I  might  add— unfortunately  !  But  must  one  culti- 
vate no  ideas  save  those  that  sprout  at  the  domestic  hearth  ?  I  dare 
say,  now,  that  in  that  modest  shade  you  were  meek  and  lowly,  and 
never  indulged  in  such  sharp  words  as  you  keep  for  me.  Who 
knows  but  you  even  fancied  yourself  imperfect !" 

"And  now? — ah  yes;  thank  you.'' 

"  Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Bertram,  that  you  are  really  magnanimous  ? 


THE   HOUSE   BEU1X1)   Till;,   I'OrLAUS.  113 

I  wouldn't  tense  you  if  there  were  any  one  else  near  me  worth  that 
trouble.  I  will  devote  some  rainy  day  to  finding  a  substitute,  by- 
and-bye.  Go  on  with  your  '  Desrues  the  Poisoner,'  or  whatever  it 
may  be  there.  There's  no  amusement  since  you  won't  get  angry," 
and  taking  his  hat  he  sauntered  off  and  left  her  to  the  perusal  of  the 
interrupted  pages. 

Th,e  journey  was  completed  without  his  aquatic  services  being  re- 
quired for  the  protection  of  Mrs.  Bertram's  trunks,  and  that  lady 
herself  entered  with  her  customary  zeal  into  the  various  amusements 
by  which  the  passengers  enlivened  the  trip.  Mr.  Bertram  pnssed 
the  time  either  serenely  dozing,  or  discussing  business  topics  with  a 
congenial  circle  on  the  guards,  and  Lisle  divided  his  attentions  be- 
tween the  two  parties,  with  very  little  toleration  for  either.  The 
brain  that  never  relaxes  its  tension,  is  but  little  superior  to  the  one- 
that  is  never  strung  up  to  the  pitch  of  ambition ;  and  thoroughly 
energetic  as  Lisle  was  during  business  hours,  he  locked  this  business 
into  his  office  at  night,  anil  left  it  behind  him  when  he  journeyed. 
If  the  reflections  which  filled  its  place  were  not  altogether  pleasura- 
ble or  profitable,  he  felt  himself  more  a  man  and  less  a  machine  for 
giving  leisure  to  them,  and  people  queried  how  it  was,  that,  equally 
well  informed  upon  many  subject^,  be  seemed  engrossed  by  none. 
He  was  in  all  respects  mentally  as  far  in  advance  of  his  years  as  he 
physically  appeared,  and  no  one  among  those  who  knew  him  tho 
most  intimately,  would  have  correctly  estimated  his  real  age  by  at 
least  ten  years ;  so  true  is  it  that  the  traces  which  anxiety  and  men- 
tal torture  leave  upon  the  features,  are  far  more  strongly  marked 
than  any  left  by  the  mere  flight  of  time. 

The  residence  of  the  Bertrams  had  been  prepared  in  advance  for 
their  reception,  and  for  the  present  Lisle  was  to  be  domesticated 
with  them.  There  Avas  something,  which  every  one  has  experienced, 
indescribably  grateful  in  the  occupancy  of  large,  fresh  apartments, 
and  thi  ir  luxurious  solitude,  after  the  crowding  and  ceaseless  chat- 
ter of  steam-boat  existence  ;  and,  having  completed  his  toilet,  Lisle 
folded  away  the  inside  shutters  opening  upon  the  street,  and  lean- 
ing upon  the  window-sill,  gazed  idly  down.upon  the  passing  pedes- 
trians, with  that  indifference  common  to  strangers  in  a  strange  place. 
An  impatient  tapping  upon  his  door  roused  him  from,  his  careless 
pastime,  and  opening  i*-,  he  met  Mrs.  Bertram  at  the  threshold. 

"  Are  you  never  coming  down  to  the  parlor  ?"  she  asked  impatient- 
ly. "  Bertram  sallied  out  as  soon  as  he  had  inducted  himself  into 
his  best  suit,  and  I've  been  moping  alone  these  two  hours.  Do  come 


114  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TIII;  rortAUS. 

down  and  put  me  out  of  patience,  or  pique  ine  into  sonietliing  like 
lifo." 

''  Now  you  see,  Mrs.  Bertram,  that  were  I  to  cease  teazing  you,  it 
wouldn't  be  a  week  before  you  would  upbraid  me  for  barbarous 
neglect.  Whatever  ladies  may  say  of  their  own  amiability,  they  like 
to  display  '  temper '  upon  every  excusable  occasion.'' 

Together  they  descended  to  the  parlor,  where  in  due  time  dftiner 
WAS  announced,  and  delayed  nearly  an  hour  for  the  dilatory  lord  of 
the  house,  much  to  his  wife's  irritation.  But  he  arrived,  at  1-ist,  as 
husbands  for  whom  dinner  is  kept  waiting  sometimes  will,  much  as 
everything  indicate*  to  the  contrary  ;  and  Mrs.  Bertram  assailed  him 
with  a  storm  of  questions. 

"  It  is  useless  to  declare  you  were  detained  by  business,  this  time. 
You  have  undisputably  been  sight-seeing;  so  what  sort  of  a  place  is 
this  ?" 

"  It  seems  a  most  extraordinary  city.  It  has  streets,  some  of  which 
are  numbered,  and  some  named.  I  am  sure  I  observed  such  uncom- 
mon names  as  Canal,  and  Chestnut,  among  others.  It  has  public 
squares,  an,d  stecpled  churches,  and  horse  cars.  I  didn't  observe 
anything  rise  out  of  the  usual  course." 

'•  Bertram,  why  can't  you  give  a  satisfactory  answer  to  an  intel- 
ligible question  ? '  asked  his  wife  in  some  annoyance. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear  ;  I  didn't  so  consider  yours.  But 
I'll  tell  you  whom  I  saw.  You  remember  Jim  Venard,  who  married 
Em  Wilkins,  of  Louisville,  a  few  years  ago  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  and  kept  her  on  the  regular  boarding-school  allowance  of 
opera — two  evenings  each  month — all  through  the  very  sea«on  of 
their  marriage ;  and  she  so  much  admired,  too,  with  beaux  by  the 
dozen  around  her  although  she  was  married !" 

"  Well ;  Yenard  survived  even  this,  astonishing  as  it  may  seem, 
and  avenging  justice  hasn't  annihilated  him,  despite  his  cruelty  to 
the  lady  of  the  multitudinous  admirers ;  for  I  met  him  just  now,  and 
he  tells  me  they  are  near  neighbors  of  ours.  He  mentioned  too,  that 
they  are  afflicted  with  a  five  or  six  years  old  boy,  though  he  worded 
it  a  little  differently,  evidently  possessing  an  affinity  for  small 
boys." 

"  Poor  Em  1  I  suppose  she  looks  quite  the  matron  and  mother, 
now.  She  used  to  be  the  most  dashing,  independent,  girl  in  .the 
city,  before  her  marriage,  and  everybody  liked  her.  'A  five  or  six 
year  old  boy :  *  just  the  age  to  be  most  provoking  ?" 

"  That  seems  to  me  a  most  indefinite  period  of  life,  as  I  haven't 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLABS.  145 

survived  it  yet,  neither  has  Sterling,  by  your  own  account.  Ven- 
ard  says  that  if  Sterling  insists  upon  organizing  a  bachelor  estab- 
lishment, he  knows  just  the  place  for  him,  fine  house,  splendid 
grounds,  and  all  that,  '  to  be  sold  for  no  fault,' — excepting  that  of 
its  owner's  bankruptcy.  What  do  you  say.  Sterling  ?" 

"That  I  am  much  obliged,  and  that  I  will  look  at  it  to-morrow.'' 

"And  Jsay  it  is  all  nonsense  to  think  of  such  a  thing,"  exclaim- 
e  1  Mrs.  Bertram,  warmly.  "  Why  can't  you  be  contented  with  a  suit 
of  rooms  here?  I'm  sure  the  house  is  large  enough  for  us  all,  and 
you  wont  have  the  fuss  and  trouble  of  housekeeping,  which  I  can. 
till  you  is  unbearable." 

"I  have  engaged  my  housekeeper,  thank  you,  and  have  no  idea 
of  leavening  the  dumplings,  and  beating  pie-crust,  in  proper  per- 
son." 

"  '  Leavening  dumplings  and  beating  pie-crust  !'  And  yet  you  gen- 
tlemen are  always  preaching  about  a  lady  '  being  able  to  direct 
household  affairs.'  You  had  much  better  spare  yourself  impend- 
ing humiliation,  and  remain  with  us.  We  need  you.  Bertram  is 
the  very  best  of  society  with  a  third  person  to  draw  him  out;  but 
like  most  husbands,  he  is  the  very  essence  of  stupidity  with  one  le- 
gally bound  to  endure  it.  The  difficulty  is,  people  don't  marry  each 
olher  till  they  have  worn  every  interesting  topic  quite  threadbare. 
I'd  be  willing  to  make  an  affidavit  that  neither  Bertram  nor  I  have 
advanced  a  new  idea  to  the  other,  for  the  last  three  years.  Make 
him  stay  with  us,  Bertram,  do." 

"  Yes,  I'll  have  an  iron  grating  put  around  him,  at  once ;  and  in  the 
meantime,  just  look  up  your  Natural  History,  and  see  what  caged 
animals  are  dieted  upon.  How  you  women  do  tease  a  man  when  you 
set  about  it.  It  seems  as  though  you  look  upon  a  poor  masculine  as 
a  sort  of  pack-horse  and  victim  in  general,  and  as  long  as  his  polite- 
ness endures,  you  peg  away  at  him.  If  Sterling  chooses  to  stay 
with  us,  he  knows  this  house  is  as  free  to  him  as  it  is  to  me,  and 
quite  as  much  at  his  service;  but  if  he  prefers  one  of  his  own,  I 
don't  see  why  he  shouldn't  be  indulged.  By  the  way,  I  nearly  for- 
got to  tell  you  that  Venard  wants  us  all  to  take  seats  in  his  opera- 
box  to-night:  I  have  the  tickets  somewhere — box  25,  no  52 — here 
it  is.  I  knew  there  was  a  2  and  a  5  in  it  somewhere.  I  can't  sub- 
mit to  it,  Sterling.  The  scraping  of  the  fiddles ,  and  the  screeching 
of  the  victims  to  popular  want-of -taste,  raises  the  deuce  with  a  bu- 
siness man's  calculations.  I  hope  you'll  escort  Mattie,  as  I've  prom- 


146  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLABS. 

iscd  Venard  as  much.    She  likes  it,  for  the  same  reason  all  ladies 
do, — it  is  expensive. 

*'  My  dear,  you  converse  well  upon  many  topics,"  said  hia  wife 
good-naturedly ;  "  confine  yourself  to  them,  and  you  will  receive 
it  for  much  good  sense,  and  possibly  some  taste." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  147 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  LITTLE  time  elapsed,  during  which  Lisle  purchased  and  took 
possession  of  his  new  home  under  the  faithful  supervision  of  Mrs. 
Drew — now  Mrs.  Perkins — who,  with  her  Joseph,  lost  no  time  in 
obeying  his  summons.  Lisle  was  not  altogether  pleased  with  the 
"serviceable  husband"  his  housekeeper  had  taken  unto  herself, 
whose  unprepossessing  appearance  formed  a  topic  for  much  playful 
banter  from  Mrs.  Bertram,  who  never  lost  an  opportunity  for  making 
a  partial  payment  of  the  many  debts  she  owed  him,  relentlessly  as 
Lisle  ever  persecuted  her  upon  all  subjects  in  which  he  knew  her 
vulnerable. 

There  is  no  surer  index  to  the  refinement  and  gentility  of  a  family, 
than  the  appearance  made  by  its  domestic  retinue ;  and  fastidious 
as  he  was  in  this  respect, he  regrrded  Joseph  Perkins  with  anything 
but  satisfaction  when  that  individual  made  his  advent  into  his  es- 
tablishment. Tall  and  lanky  in  figure,  his  thin,  Ion?,  carrotty  locks 
clung  in  a  weak,  dejected  way,  around  his  sunken  cheeks,  unwhole- 
somely  yellow  as  if  in  sympathy,  and  his  short-waisted  coat,  with  its 
long  tails  dangling  round  a  pair  of  consumptive  pantaloons,  led 
one's  observation  by  discouraging  degrees  down  to  his  feet,  where 
his  personal  misfortunes  seemed  to  culminate  in  a  halo  of  con'es- 
ponding  glory.  These  members  seemed  quite  to  have  vacated  the 
front  premises  of  his  boots,  and  to  have  taken  up  lodgings  in  the 
area,  so  that  while  the  abandoned  territory  extended  indefinitely  in 
n,  withered,  weakly  kind  of  irregular  point,  the  opposite  extremity 
projected  far  over  the  boot-heel,  in  a  swollen  condition  painful  to 
contemplate.  Lisle  looked  ruefully  upon  the  apparition,  while  Mrs. 
Bertram,  who  chanced  upon  the  scene,  laughed  outright. 

"  I  have  heard  of  shoes  being  '  picked  before  they  got  ripe,'  and 
I'm  sure  poor  Joe's  must  have  met  with  a  like  calamity,"  laughed 
Mrs.  Bertram  when  Joseph  had  been  dismissed  from  inspection. 
"  If  you  would  like  me  to  make  a  poultice  for  them,  just  say  so.'' 
c  "  It's  useless,"  Lisle  replied  pathetically.    "  If  I  had  a  dozen  poul- 


148  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

tices,  I  shouldn't  know  where  to  apply  them.  They  might  draw  his 
foot  out  into  his  boot-toe?,  or  quite  out  of  the  wh>>le  thing ;  accord- 
ing to  application.  There's  nothing  for  it  but  to  make  him  over  en- 
tirely. If  you  insist  upon  rendering  yourself  useful,  however,  you 
may  put  some  '  drawing '  application  near  his  mustache  th:it  will 
disperse  it.  The  fellow  is  quite  running  to  tops.  He'd  prove  a 
good  useful  fellow  in  a  crow  country,  though,  wouldn't  he  T' 

li  I  think  you  had  better  prevail  upon  the  Infant  to  '  write  a  bill 
of  divorcement  and  put  it  in  his  hand,'  according  to  the  •scriptural 
directions  fur  husbands  who  wish  to  relieve  themselves  of  unneces- 
sary wives.  Cupid  played  her  a  sorry  caper  this  time." 

"  Upon  account  of  her  youth  and  inexperience ;  yes.  All  said, 
though,  Mrs  Bertram,  it  isn't  lair  to  name  her  '  the  infant '  save  in 
all  due  reverence.  All  feminities  are  mentally  young  upon  matri- 
monial subjects ;  and  Mrs.  Drew  served  my  uncle  many  faithful 
years.  If  Joseph  Perkins  proves  to  be  the  rascal  he  certainly  looks, 
I  shall  be  truly  sorry  for  her.  There's  no  knowing,  though,  what 
decent  clothes  may  do  lor  him.  Aiiy  man  looks  a  vagabond  when 
he  is  shabby.** 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  think  you  fancy  that  a  snub  ;  and  I'm  not  sure  but 
it  is.  Matihuony  might  develop  considerable  snubbing  talent  in 
you  !  I'll  go,  now,  and  tell  Bertram  you  are  coming  round  and  may 
yet  equal  him,  though  no  man  need  hope  to  excel  him.  Let  us  know 
how  you  get  on  nvtnufacturing  servants  out  of  the  raw  material." 

Itce:t  tinly  looked  ahope!e>s  bisk,  but  mentally  hoping  for  success, 
he  resolved  to  make  a  faithful  trial,  assured  t:iat  could  he  but  render 
him  pr<  scntnble,  Mrs.  Perkins  would  not  sutler  him  to  be  dishonest, 
at  least  toward  himself,  without  revealing  it.  She  would  see  that 
he  was  well  served,  and  knowing  that  he  could  confide  all  things  to 
her  honesty,  he  lost  no  time  in  supei  vising  Joseph's  outer  man,  and 
hoped  for  the  best. 

Thus  far  no  compLdnts  had  reached  him,  and  though  he  some- 
times saw  that  his  housekeeper  was  flurried  and  anxious,  all  the 
married  people  he  knew,  of  whatever  condition  in  life,  were  the 
same,  and  if  she  was  tolerably  contented  with  her  lanky  Joe,  he  as 
yet  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  not  be  BO.  After  all,  he  could 
prove  no  worse  than  BJ1,  who,  now  the  husband  of  "Militia,"'  was 
left  behind  to  eat  his  way  through  life  under  other  auspices  than  his; 
and  thus  at  last  relieved  of  two  disagreeable  burdens,  it  would  be  a 
sorry  bargain  indeed  which  could  prove  a  worse  one. 

"Witli  his  new  home  and  surroundings  Lisle  became  daily  more 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLAKS.  149 

satisfied.  The  balmy  Southern  air  seemed  insensibly  to  penetrate 
his  spirit,  softening  what  had  been  stern  and  misanthropic,  and  at- 
tuning him  to  harmony  with  the  peace  and  beauty  around  him,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  his  whole  existence,  he  felt  that  life  oilers  some 
atoning  hours  for  the  many  burdens  it  imposes,  even  to  the  most 
care-worn  of  earth's  children  Sitting  in  a  dreamy  languor  upon 
his  flower-crowned  balcony,  while  the  fragrance  of  his  cigar  was 
wafted  round  him  in  eddying  coils  by  the  scarcely  whispering 
zephyrs,  he  watched  the  twilight  as  it  wrapped  its  fleecy  veil  over 
the  scene,  and  its  tender  brooding  hushed  him  into  peace  and 
quietude  as  a  lullaby  soothes  a  restless  child.  The  old  anxiety  op- 
pressed him  less  and  less  frequently,  and  the  sensitive  shrinking 
from  companionship,  that  had  rendered  him  half  a  hermit  in  tiio 
midst  of  society,  had  vanished. 

Without  one  effort  upon  his  part  to  banish  the  past  from  his  re- 
collection, it  had  ceased  to  taunt  and  reproach  him,  and  the  stain 
upon  his  birth  was  as  if  wiped  away,  with  the  absence  of  all  that 
heretofore  had  made  it  an  ever  present  p:iin  and  bitterness. 

Deep  as  had  been  his  regard  for  Dr.  Kelley,  each  letter  received 
from  him  had  been  a  probe  applied  to  his  proud  and  sensitive  spirit, 
and  each  expression  of  affection  they  contained  seemed  a  proclama- 
tion of  the  tie  that  existed  between  them.  He  did  not  admit  to  him- 
self that  their  cessation  wag  a  relief,  but  the  effect  was  manifest.  It 
was  as  if  some  obliterating  hand  had  wiped  out  all  that  was  humil- 
iating to  his  spirit,  and  levelled  the  wall  of  shame  that  had  separ- 
ated him  from  the  world  of  his  fellows.  Into  that  world  he  now  en- 
tered upon  equal  terms,  and  it  acknowledged  and  bowed  to  his  posi- 
tion. Mrs.  Bertram  depended  upon  him  as  an  escort  among  the  gay 
scenes  she  frequented,  for  she  was  an  inveterate  pleasure  seeker, 
while  her  husband  had  neither  patience  nor  respect  for  any  world 
outside  his  business;  and  her  chattiness  diverted  many  an  hour 
which  he  would  otherwise  have  spent  in  loneliness  at  his  own  home. 
It  was  fortunate  for  each  that  they  were  near  neighbors,  since  both 
were  exacting  in  their  demands,  and  though  he  would  have  protest- 
ed, had  she  avowed  to  him  that  she  was  teaching  him  toleration  if 
not  admiration  for  her  whole  sex,  it  was  in  a  measure  true. 

Lisle  entered  the  Bertram  residence  one  disengaged  evening,  to 
perceive  an  unusual  excitement  in  Mrs.  Bertram's  manner.  She  dis- 
play d  a  tiny  envelope  to  his  gaze  as  he  closed  the  parlor  door  upon 
his  entrance,  whose  mission  was  plainly  written  upon  its  very  ex- 
terior, and  tapping  with  it  the  cheek  of  her  meditating  husband,  she 


150  THE   HOUSE  BEIIIWD  THE  POPLARS. 

exclaimed,  "  There,  gentlemen,  I  must  liavc  both  of  you  upon  this 
occa&ion.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Venard  are  to  be  ceremoniously  and  hand- 
somely '  at  homo '  to-morrow  evening,  and  I've  promised  Em  that 
you  shall  both  of  you  enter  an  appearance,  Now,  Bertram,  you 
really  must,  this  once.  I've  kept  the  card  all  this  time,  till  Sterling 
should  come,  and.  so  add  his  commands  to  mine." 

"  Humph !  He  won't  be  under  as  good  subjection  when  he's 
been  a  '  legally  responsible '  as  long  as  I  have.  However,  he  needn't 
obey  this  time,  as  I  told  Venard,  to-day,  I'd  go  if  it  upset  the  board 
of  trade.  That's  the  inconvenience  of  having  friends ;  you  can't  say 
no." 

"  Tres  bien.  and  let  those  return  thanks  who  owe  them.  Of  course 
you  will  go,  Sterling,  and  I've  a  reward  of  merit  to  announce  you. 
Ein  has  at  last  prevailed  upon  that  inexplicable  Miss  Wakefield  to 
render  herself  visible.  So  strangely  pretty  as  she  is,  it  is  strange  she 
will  forever  shut  herself  up  and  utterly  refuse  to  know  anybody, 
despite  all  Em's  protests !  I  don't  believe  it  is  all  from  pure  sensi- 
tiveness regarding  her  position  as  a  governess,  for  she  is  too  proud 
for  any  position  to  humiliate  her.  She'd  queen  it,  and  that  too, 
successfully,  were  she  a  nursery-maid  instead  of  an  accomplished 
pianist.  I  don't  suppose  you  have  seen  her,  Sterling  t" 

'•  No,  I  believe  not." 

"  '  Believe  not ;'  you  may  be  certain  if  you  ever  had,  you  wouldn't 
be  in  any  doubt  upon  the  subject." 

.  "  Oh,  then  she  is  something  uncommon,  eh  ? — '  stunning '  as  the 
English  fast  ones  say." 

"Nonsense;  that  isn't  the  word  for  it,  and  I  don't  know  any  that 
is.  .She  fascinates  one  from  the  very  first,  and  then  she  grows  and 
grows  upon  one,  till" — 

"  She  must  be  quite  enormous  then,  I  should  say.  Like  '  Captain 
Murderer '  in  the  old  story,  she  must  '  reach  from  floor  to  ceiling, 
and  from  wall  to  wall,'  if  she  makes  many  acquaintances.  I  hope 
f-he  won't  go  off  in  a  catastrophe,  as  the  '  bride-pie '  eating  captain 
did  '  when  he  had  picked  the  bones  of  the  dark  twin.' '' 

"  Oh,  Sterling,  you  are  the  most  provoking  !  I'd  like  to  see  yon 
thoroughly  in  earnest  once,  if  such  a  thing  is  possible  !" 

"  Why,  I'm  so  this  moment.  How  upon  earth  a  young  lady  can 
'  grow  and  grow  '  without  coming  to  something  wonderful  in  some 
\v:iy,  surpasses  my  comprehension !  Well,  proceed ;  what  is  she  like 
now  ?" 

Mrs.  Bertram  looked  rebellious  and  flushed,  and  maintained  a  mo- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAB8.  151 

ment's  obstinate  silence,  but  seeing  that  Lisle  was  amusing  himself  at 
her  expense,  while  even  her  husband  smiled,  she  said  with  an  effort 
which  only  rendered  her  words  more  piquant, 

"  She  is  like  nothing  you  ever  saw  or  dreamed  of.  She's  made  of 
flesh  and  blood,  and  as  some  people  say, '  she's  got  a  nice  head  on  her, 
and  a  pretty  eye  in  it,  and  she's  a  good  figured  person ;'  and  to  tell 
the  truth,"  she  said,  suddenly  brightening  into  good  humor  as  she 
proceeded,  "she  is  marvellously  pretty;  handsome,  isn't  the  word 
for  her.  Her  eyes  are  very  dark. and  soft;  I  suppose  sentimental 
people  would  describe  them  as  gazelle-like,  but  I  confess  I  never  saw 
a  gazelle's  eyes.  And  she  has  the  strangest  way — not  of  blushing,  nor 
anything  like  it — but  rather  flashing  up  the  most  exquisite  color 
when  anything  moves  her." 

"  Well,  go  on ;  I'm  all  attention,"  said  Lisle  gravely. 

"  She  is  neither  tall  nor  short,  but  most  exquisitely  formed,  and 
she  has  the  mo^t  peculiar  arch  in  her  neck  just  where  it  joins  her 
perfect  little  head  quite  loaded  with  purplish  hair." 

"  Now  let  me  see  if  I  should  recognize  her  by  your  description. 
A  schoolmistress  with  not  very  large  bones  in  her  anatomy ;  has  a 
way  of  turning  red  in  the  face,  at  pleasure — (holds  her  breath  !)  has 
one  eye,  if  not  two,  of  some  dark  color — has  a  neck  with  a  curve  in 
it,  like  a  crane's,  and  patronizes  'switches;'  isn't  that  what  you  call 
false  back  hair  r" 

"  There  isn't  a  switch  about  it.  It  is  all  her  own  hair,  and  as  soft 
and  glossy  as — I  can't  compare  it." 

"  Whipped  lard  scented  with  bergamot ;  half  a  dollar  per  bottle." 

"  Well,  have  it  so  if  you  will.  I  shall  be  revenged  when  you  see 
her." 

Mr.  Bertram  raised  his  eyes  wonderingly.  "  Really  Mattie,"  said 
he,  "  I  don't  see  why  you  are  so  smitten  with  Miss  Wakefield.  I 
saw  her  once,  and  she  seemed  to  me  a  rather  agreeable  young  lady, 
but  nothing  wonderful.  I  should  never  dream  of  calling  her  a 
beauty,  though  Venard  and  his  wife  do." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  a  pretty  woman  when  you  see  one.  No 
body  expects  you  to  testify,"  retorted  his  wife.  "  The  truth  is,  men 
and  women  never  do  agree  in  their  ideas  of  beauty.  It  is  singular 
that  Venard  admires  her,  for  Em  thinks  her  wondrous.  Aside  from 
her  beauty,  she  is  an  actual  prodigy." 

"  Heaven  spare  us  !"  ejaculated  Lisle  in  all  sincerity. 

"  Fi  done !  You  ought  to  be  more  reasonable;  you  so  handsome 


152  TUB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAHS. 

and  well  grown  a  lad  !    But  she  isn't  a  lecturcss,  nor  a  literary 
prodigy ;  her  taient  is  mu-ic,  and  such  music !" 

t{  And  a  musical  prodigy,  of  all  others !  She  eats  well,  and  sleeps 
immensely,  doesn't  she  ?  Has  a  face  decidedly  running  to  lower  jaw, 
a  wide  or  at  least  a  full  mouth,  and  is  sadly  fearful  of  becoming  too 
stout.  Isn't  it  so  V" 

"  Marvellous  guess-work  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bertram,  sarcastically. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all ;  most  musicians  are  the  same.  Music  is  decidedly 
an  animal  instinct." 

"Witness,  a  pig  under  a  gate,  or  a  calf  at  his  matins." 

"  Well,  theu,  to  speak  more  correctly,  the  love  of  music  is  an  ani- 
mal instinct,  and  the  talent  for  expressing  it  depends  upon  the  ani- 
mal organization,  to  such  an  extent  that  the  very  grossest  persons  I 
ever  saw  have  been  the  very  best  singers.  Look  at  the  world  of  fine 
musicians,  and  contradict  the  shocking  assertion  if  you  can.  It  is 
all  well  enough,  but  I  don't  imagine  that  I  should  ever  be  fascinated 
with  them  in  any  sense  save  a  musical  one." 

Well,  be  satisfied,  Miss  Wakefield  is  not  an  artiste;  she  is  simply 
an  exceedingly  fine  amateur  performer,  and  apparently  wholly  un- 
conscious of  the  effect  she  produces  upon  her  hearers.  I  have  no 
doubt  she  would  be  hissed  off  the  stage,  and  she  will  be  glad  she 
never  practised  her  profession  on  it,  when  she  learns  that  to  this  fact 
she  is  indebted  for  a  lack  of  jaw  and  superabundant  adipose  tissue. 
She  is  delicate  and  spirititelle." 

"  You  surprise  me  more  and  more  !  I've  seen  many  ladies'  beau- 
ties, and  I  never  saw  one  who  was  not  more  indebted  to  flesh  and 
muscle  for  her  popularity  than  to  anything  else.  Fat  men  and 
women  are  disgusting  to  me,  and  I  never  pardon  them  for  being  so 
unless  they  are  sorry  for  it  themselves ;  and  even  then,  nine  times  in 
ten  they  might  have  avoided  it  had  they  cultivated  their  heads  in- 
stead of  their  stomachs." 

"Dear  me,  'I  never  yet  heard  that  people  are  to  blame  for  their 
own  noses.'  Who  made  constitutions,  pray?  and  if  we  all  had. our 
choice  in  the  matter,  who  knows  if  they'd  turn  out  as  warranted  !  I'm 
heartily  glad  you  are  satisfied  with  your  own,  and  certainly  I  never 
saw  any  one  more  so.  Lisle  Sterling,  you  ought  to  be  snubbed !" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  any  one  who  would  take  the  job  more  will- 
ingly than  you.  But  I'll  wait  a  little,  while  you  tell  me  more  about 
your  new-found  goddess.  You've  told  me  wJiat  she  is ;  now  tell  mo 
who." 

"Ah,  that's  jnst  the  mystery.  Nobody  knows.     She  came  to  tho 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE    POl'LAUS.  ..  153 

Venards  from  Judge  "Wheeler's  family,  where  she  had  been  employ- 
id  as  music-mistress  to  the  young  ladiis.  They  knew  nothing 
uf  lier  antecedents,  as  she  brought  no  letters  of  reference,  nor  any- 
thing, but  was  engaged  solely  upon  her  evident  merit.  They  were 
all  quite  fascinated  with,  her  ft\>ni  the  first,  and  finding  her  a  true 
lady,  they  made  her  a  friend  and  companion,  treating  her  in  all  re- 
spects as  one  of  themselves." 

"  And  then," — suggested  Lisle,  growing  interested. 

"  She  remained  with  them  some  time,  they  liking  her  more  and 
mor->,  till  suddenly, — I  don't  think,  Sterling,  that  I  ought  to  tell 
yon,  as  Em  told  me  quite  in  confidence.  " 

"  All  the  better :  I've  quite  a  feminine  capacity  for  secrets.  Go 
on." 

"  You  mustn't  mention  it,  then.  Suddenly  she  disappeared  with- 
out a  word,  and  they  saw  her  no  more  for  two  whole  weeks.  At  the 
end  of  that  time  she  reappeared  one  morning  just  as  though  noth- 
ing had  happened,  and  when  the  Judge  demanded  an  explanation 
of  such  mysterious  conduct,  she  refused  to  give  any.  In  vain  Mrs. 
Wheeler  and  the  young  ladies  wept  and  besought  her  ;  she  refused, 
while  admitting  that  the  demand  was  just  and  reasonable.  They 
'gave  her  warning,  as  the  phrase  goes,  and  she  was  weeping  and 
wringing  her  little  hands  when  Em  Venard  happened  in.  Em  hail 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  her,  before,  and  when  she  learned  the  cause 
of  all  this  trouble,  she  stepped  forward  at  once  and  championed 
her,  taking  her  directly  to  her  own  house,  ostensibly  as  governess 
for  little  Charley,  but  in  reality  as  her  own  protegee  and  friend. 
Miss  Wakeh'eld  confirmed  every  word  the  Wheelers  had  said  of 
her,  and  Em  says,  quite  pathetically  avowed  that  she  was  not  her 
own  mistress  in  that  respect,  and  might  commit  the  same  offence 
rgain.  Em  neither  asked  nor  wished  for  any  promises  nor  confess- 
ions, sensibly  declaring  that  the  poor  child  knew  her  own  business 
l.cst,  and  Venard,  who  is  equally  independent  in  his  disposition, 
thought  the  sime,  and  outrightly  told  her  so.  She  has  been  with 
t;ie*in  now  several  months,  and  they  both  love  and  respect  her.  But 
F!IC  never  takes  either  of  them  into  her  confidence,  and  just  plods 
along  with  that  little  cub,  Charley,  who  cares  no  more  for  '  gamut ' 
and  '  perspective, '  than  for  the  blue-laws  and  catechism  !  The 
Wheelers  had  the  grace  to  keep  silence  over  the  escapade, — though 
ihat  is  too  harsh  a  name  for  it, — and  she  is  nearly  always  invited 
out  with  Em  and  Venard,  as  she  was  with  the  Judge's  family ;  but 
she  wont  often  go.  Sometimes  she  does,  and  then  everybody  is 


154  THE  HOUSE  nEnrxD  THE  POPLARS. 


smitten  with  her,  for  which  she  doesn't  in  the  least  seem  to  care. 
This  is  all  any  one  knows  about  her,  and  more  than  any  but  us 
could  tell." 

"  A  most  mysterious  young  lady,  truly  !  And  she  makes  no  more 
startling  disappearances  ?  " 

"  No  :  and  what  is  tha  most  curious  of  all  things  connected  with 
her,  she  hasn't  a  correspondent  in  the  world,  as  far  as  any  one  can 
find  out  :  never  was  known  to  receive  but  one  letter,  and  as  that  one 
came  the  very  day  of  her  sudden  disappearance  from  the  "Wheelers, 
it  increased  the  mystery." 

"  But  did  the  post-mark  afford  no  clue  as  to  the  probable  place  of 
her  visit  ?  Singular  that  one  lady  should  receive  a  mysterious  let- 
ter which  half  a  dozen  couldn't  learn  all  about  !" 

"  Of  course  we  all  asked  everything  about  it  that  we  could  possi- 
bly tliink  of;  but  the  mark  was  so  blurred  it  was  illegible,  and  even 
the  date  -couldn't  be  distinguished.  There'd  have  been  some  com- 
fort in  knowing  how  long  it  took  it  to  come." 

"  Poor  Miss  Wakefield  !  I  wonder  if  she  knows  how  many  pangs 
of  curiosity  her  affairs  have  excited.  I'd  advise  her  kind  friends  to 
tea-kettle  nose,  or  coffee-pot  spout,  the  next  one.  Better  that  one 
letter  should  suffer,  than  that  the  whole  sex  perish  !  Why  icill  wo- 
men forever  fag  and  bully  each  other  ?'.' 

"  Some  won't,  and  Em  Venard  is  one  of  them.  She  expressed  some 
pretty  vigorous  sentiments  to  the  Wheelers  upon  the  subject,  for 
which  they  like  her  no  better  to-day." 

"  If  Mrs.  Venard  ever  becomes  a  widow,  she  shall  have  the  felicity 
of  refusing  me  !  A  woman  who  scorns  an  unfair  advantage,  is  en- 
titled to  every  legitimate  triumph  of  her  sex.  And  the  mysterious 
young  lady  will  be  visible  to-morrow  evening?" 

•'  Yes,  she  told  me  so  to-day  ;  and  we  are  determined  to  make  her 
sing,  too.  Everybody  is  crazy  to  hear  her.  You  may  make  up 
your  mind  that  when  you  see  and  hear  Leonore  Wakefield,  you  arc 
for  once  going  to  acknowledge  my  good  t:iste  and  judgment.  IJjc- 
liL-ve  Bertram  is  really  sound  asleep.  What  a  bl  s-ing  it  is  that 
man  has  nn  amiable  wife!'' 

Li-le  bade  her  good  night,  and  hastened  homeward,  more  inter- 
ested in  the  evening  topic  of  conversation  than  he  would  have  cared 
to  own.  Superior  as  lie  believed  himself  to  the  petty  curiosity  of 
human  nature,  he  did  not  affect  to  be  beyond  its  interests  ;  and  this 
partial  insight  into  a  delicate  woman's  history  affected  him  as  no 
mere  recital  ever  had  done  before.  It  might  be  that  the  mystery  in 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  155 

her  life  which  she  guarded  so  faithfully — even  to  the  jeopardy  of 
friendship  and  reputation — excited  his  sympathy  more  thoroughly 
than  any  openly  confessed  trouble  would  have  done,  recalling,  as  it 
did,  to  his  mind,  the  weary  years  he  had  borne  his  own  miserable 
secret  which  he  would  have  suffered  death  itself  rather  than  reveal. 
Here  was  another  life  made  wretched  by  a  kindred  burden,  and  that 
life  a  tender  woman's,  bound  even  by  her  dependent  position  to  sub- 
mit to  prying  curiosity,  and  to  yield  to,  or  openly  defy,  demands  for 
explanation.  A  man  could  answer  such  demands  as  they  deserved  ; 
but  a  woman,  more  than  that,  a  young  and  beautiful  one,  could  offer 
nothing  but  tears  and  protestations,  and  stagger  on  amid  averted 
looks  or  illy-eoncealed  sneers, 'as  best  she  might. 

All  that  was  chivalrous  in  his  soul  rose  up  under  this  injustice,  and 
he  made  his  way  through  Mrs.  Venard's  crowded  rooms  the  follow- 
ing evening,  with  a  heart  throbbing  with  pity  and  compassion  for 
one  whom  he  had  resolved  to  befriend  by  every  means  within  his 
power.  Sufficiently  interested  in  Leonore  Wakefield  to  wish  to  see 
her  before  a  formal  presentation,  he  looked  round  for  her.  There 
were  a  number  of  new  faces  present,  but  not  one  answering  to  her 
description  had  yet  met  his  gaze,  and  interrupted  as  he  was  at  each 
step  of  his  progress  by  the  greetings  of  his  friends,  he  was  about 
giving  up  the  search  in  despair,  when  Mrs.  Bertram  touched  his  arm. 

"How  late  you  are,  Sterling!  Can't  you  be  trusted  to  go  any- 
where at  a  seasonable  hour  if  left  to  yourself?  One  moment  more 
and  you  would  have  been  too  late  to  hear  Miss  Wakcfield  sing.  There 
is  the  prelude  already.  Come."  , 

"  I  will  if  you  leave  a  coat  on  my  shoulders  to  appear  in.  Don't 
pinch  so ;  my  arm  will  be  quite  black-and-blue  to-morrow ;  and  it 
isn't  polite  to  crowd  one's  neighbors  so." 

"  Don't  spare  your  neighbors,  for  they  won't  spare  you.  Don't 
you  see  you  won't  get  near  the  piano  if  you  dally  along  in  this  way  ? 
There  !  Some  one  has  taken  the  place  I  had  particularly  selected  for 
you." 

"I'm  not  deaf,  I  don't  know  why  any  'deacon's  bench  '  should  ba 
reserved  for  me.  Let  us  stop  here." 

"  Why  upon  earth  didn't  you  come  earlier,  so  you  could  have  seen 
her  before  she  is  quite  monoplized  ?'' 

"  Because,  oh  mortal  infirmity — I  couldn't  get  my  boot  on, !  I  about 
concluded  I  should  have  to  come,  at  last,  like  Mother  Goose's 
sou  Johu,  with  a  slight  difference;  one  boot  off  and  one  boot  on, 


156  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAR3. 

&c.     They  are  what  you  ladies  call  'a  capital  fit,'  which  means — 
you  know  what." 

"  Were  any  one  else  to  heir  that,  they'd  know  at  once  how  vain 
you  are.  I  fancied  you  had  a  sanctimonious  look  to-night,  for  some 
reason." 

"  Don't  compliment  my  extremities  at  the  expense  of  my  head,  I 
beg  you.  If  you  think  me  pretty,  say  so,  but  don't  accuse  me  of 
be  ng  vain." 

'•  You  are  neither  one  nor  the  other.     There.     Just  hear  her  !" 

Leaning  ngainst  the  door-case,  Lisle  commanded  a  fair  view  of  the 
la  ly  at  the  piano.  Prepared  as  he  was  to  find  her  beautiful,  he  had 
never  imagined  such  grace  and  swee'tness  united  with  that  beauty. 
lie  had  expected  something  rather  in  the  "dashing"  style;  an  air 
of  aplomb,  with  possibly  a  tinge  of  self-satisfaction,  despite  which  he 
had  resolved  to  like  her,  knowing  that  bem  ath  it  all  she  concealed 
some  sorrow  that  merited  the  sympathy  of  every  heart  that  had  like- 
wise suffered  in  secret  and  alone.  But  the  ruling  characteristic  of 
Miss  Wakefield's  beauty  was  gentleness  ;  not  the  insipid,  appealing 
air  usually  recognized  by  that  term  when  applied  to  a  pretty  womnn, 
but  an  indescribable  grace  detracting  nothing  from  the  dignity  of 
her  deportment,  while  it  softened  the  rather  striking  style  of  her 
beauty  of  face  and  figure.  The  face,  of  the  clearest  oval  contour,  aud 
pale  in  its  complexion,  excepting  when  some  ment-il  emotion  tinged 
it  with  a  brighter  tint,  was  quite  illumined  by  the  large,  almond- 
shaped  eyes,  dark  and  soft,  and  wondrously  expressive :  and  the 
symmetrical  head,  adorned  only  by  the  waving  coils  of  that  magnifi- 
cent hair,  purplish  in  its  very  blackness,  which  Mrs.  Bertram  had 
apostrophised,  was  borne  with  an  air  of  pride  as  instinctive  aud  free 
from  affectation  as  it  was  royally  beautiful. 

"Isn't  it  lovely!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bertram  as  the  music  ceased. 

"  Yes,  she  is,  exquisitely  so,"  Lisle  replied  with  a  sigh.  Mrs. 
Bertram  laughed. 

"  Oh,  she  of  course  is  so.  I  told  you  tint  before  you  came.  I 
spoke  of  her  singing,  then.  Did  you  hear  it,  or  were  you  as  absent 
as  you  yet  seem?  ' 

'•  I  heard  it,  of  course ;  but  I'll  set  you  an  example  of  frankness. 
and  declare,  at  once,  th;\t  I  was  not  thinking  of  it  as  much  as  of  her- 
self. I  shall  never  again  fear  Jove's  thunderbolts,  since  one  of  them 
failed  to  do  duty  when  I  last  evening  enumerated  the  charms  of  the 
schoolmistress !  I  feel  as  though  I  ought  to  ask  pardon  for  it,  but  I 
don't  know  of  whom.  How  insufferable  I  must  be  at  times  !'' 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  157 

"Of  course;  don't  I  tell  you  so?  And  you  didn't  'think  of  tlie 
singing '  just  now,  when  everybody  else  was  spell-bound !  Her  voice 
is  an  audible  tear ;  it  is  so  clear,  bright,  and  liquid !  Yet,  I  would 
be  willing  to  give  bond^,  that  if  you  over  hoar  her  sing  a  glee  with 
corresponding  expression,  you'll  refer  to  the  pathos  just  now  dis- 
played, and  impatiently  assert  that  it  was  all  acting — that  musical 
tones,  like  popular  morals,  are  assumed  ior  the  occasion,  and  have 
no  connection  with  the  real  character." 

"Why,  yes,  I  make  that  assertion  in  this- moment.  He  only  is  th  ; 
true  philosopher,  who  is  entertained  without  being  deluded.  If  one 
only  acts  well  and  in  good  taste, 'no  one  should  complain,  though 
since  it  is  manifestly  but  an  offering  to  his  gratification.  No  ono 
acts  the  hypocrite  for  his  own  satisfaction.  Do  you  see  that  Miss 
"VVakeficld  has  again  drawn  on  her  gloves,  as  a  signal  that  she  is  now 
to  be  entertained  ?  I  wish  you  would  present  me." 

{il  will,  though  I'm  quite  uncertain  whether  she  will  be  enter- 
tained by  you."  And  seeing  that  she  was,  by  good  fortune,  disen- 
gaged, Mrs.  Bertram  introduced  him  with  a  blended  cordiality  and 
playfulness  warranted  by  their  mutual  intimacy.  Lisle  smiled  at 
the  air  with  which  she  complied  with  his  request,  while  he  secretly 
rejoiced  that  it  was  not  a  formal  presentation,  placing  him  socially 
de  combat  with  one  for  whom  he  entertained  so  much  sympathy  and 
admiration. 

Miss  W;ikefield  raised  her  eyes  mechanically  to  his  face  for  an 
instant,  and  then  bowed  formally,  without  the  faintest  aifectation  of 
a  smile. 

•'  A  most  serious  young  lady,  upon  my  word !"  thought  Lisle  a 
little  chagrined  at  her  coolness,  as  if,  in  some  way,  she  owed  him 
more  cordiality  for  the  many  kind  thoughts  he  had  bestowed  upon 
her  ;  but  he  offered  her  his  arm  for  a  promenade,  with  as  much  gen- 
tlemanly assurance  as  he  could  summon  under  this  mental  shower- 
bath,  and  they  moved  away  amid  a  throng  that  were  seeking  the 
galleries.  A  lady  by  a  miss-step  tore  Miss  Wakeh'eld's  trailing 
dress,  and  as  she  apologized  and  passed  on,  Lisle  said  laughingly, 

"You  ladies  seem  to  be  each  others  predestined  enemies.  'See 
what  a  rent  the  envious  lady  made,'  if  you  will  permit  the  para- 
phrase." 

"  I  think  you  judge  rather  harshly,"  she  replied  gently.  • 

"  Pretty  little  creature,  but  not  at  all  brilliant,"  was  Lisle's  mental 
comment ;  and  he  proceeded  with  laudable  perseverance  iu  his 


158  TUB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLAHS. 

efforts  to  amuse  and  interest  her,  till,  quite  discouraged  by  the 
brevity  of  her  replies,  he  asked  bantering!  j, 

"  Have  you  a  gift  for  silence,  Miss  Waketield  ?" 

"No,  I  believe  not.  I  will  be  unnecessarily  frank,  and  tell  you 
that  though  not  insensible  of  your  efforts  in  my  behalf,  I  was  per- 
versely and  inexcusably  preoccupied.  Language  is  not  always  at 
one's  command." 

She  smiled  as  she  made  this  unique  confession,  a  sad  yet  tender 
smile,  that  fell  upon  him  like  an  inspiration;  and  now  quite  at  case, 
he  said  with  mock  regret, 

"  And  all  the  wisdom  I  have  been  uttering  his  fallen  upon  unlis- 
tening  ears.  Ah  me  !  Well,  I  pardon  you,  unasked.  I'm  magnani- 
mous." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  are,"  she  replied  earnestly. 

"Thank  you.  I  am  equally  pleased  and  surprised  that  I  have 
friends  who  thus  recommend  me  to  your  favor.  I  supposed  that  if 
you  had  heard  anything  regarding  me,  it  had  led  you  to  fancy  me  an 
ogre." 

"  No ;  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  commit  such  an  error.  I  know 
you  far  bettor  than  you  imagine." 

Lisle  bowed,  and  his  eyes  asked  the  question  politeness  forbade  to 
his  lips.  She  answered  it  as  though  he  had  really  spokeu,  and  with 
a  silvery  laugh. 

"  Oh,  one  cannot  express  the  sentiments  you  so  universally  utter, 
without  acquiring  some  notoriety ;  and  it  might  be  asserted  as  a 
a  truth,  that  the  most  direct  road  to  a  lady's  interest,  is  that  of  sys- 
tematic detraction  of  her  sex.  Very  few  of  us  are  superior  to  the 
weakness  of  seeking  to  make  converts — particularly  of  so-called 
'  women-haters." 

"But  I  am  not  a  woman-hater.  I  believe,  in  all  sincerity,  that 
thiTe  are  few  living  beings  who  more  truly  sympathize  with  a 
woman's  existence,  cramped  and  unsatisfactory  as  it  is,  than  I  do. 
die  has  a  right  to  laugh  at  human  peccadillos,  however  manifested  ; 
and  if  I  appear  most  amused  by  feminine  ones,  it  is  because  they  are 
more  innocent  than  those  of  my  own  sex.  .You  are  amusing,  while 
we  are  guilty ;  and  it  is  a  perverse  heart  indeed  that  laughs  at  guilt. 
Are  you  a  believer  in  the  philosophy  of  affinity,  Miss  Wakefieid?" 

"  Are  you  quizzing  mn,  Mr.  Sterling  ?" 

"Not  in  the  least ;  because  I  confess  1  am  a  convert  to  that  science, 
or  instinct — for  it  is  both  one  and  the  other.  I  never  came  in  con- 
tact with  a  mental  antagonist,  without  receiving  a  sort  of  psycho- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TIJE  POPLARS.  159 

logical  telegram  announcing  it,  and  I  never  suffered  it  to  pass  un- 
heeded without  regretting  it.  I  suppose  every  one  experiences  the 
fame  to  some  extent ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  dread  of  ridicule  pre- 
vents the  confession  of  many  singular  premonitions  which  fall  little 
short  of  the  miraculous.  Do  I  seem  to  you  tinctured  with  German- 
ism ?'' 

"  Not  at  all.  I  suppose  no  one  accepts  or  rejects  acquaintance- 
ship except  in  obedience  to  this  law,  however  unconfessed,  or  un- 
recognized even  by  one's  self.  But  what  led  you  to  make  such  a  re- 
mark just  now." 

"  I  will  tell  you  when  we  become  better  acquainted,  if  you  allow 
me  that  privilege." 

She  bowed,  and  smiled  assent,  and  he  added  more  earnestly, 

"Please  remember  that  I  shall  avail  myself  of  your  permission.  I 
ask,  in  good  faith,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  strive  for  your  friend- 
ship and  good  will."  -  - 

"It  is  but  a  slight  gift  for  the  fortunate  Mr.  Lisle  Sterling  to 
chim,"  she  replied  with  a  courtesy  whose  very  pride  was  a  reminder 
of  the  difference  in  their  positions  in  life.  He  closed  his  lips  more 
firmly,  and  offered  his  arm  again  to  escort  her  to  the  parlors;  for, 
tired  of  the  ceaseless  promenade,  they  had  lingered  by  the  balustrade. 
She  thought  he  was  offended,  and  as  she  placed  her  hand  upon  hia 
arm,  she  said  more  gently, 

"  If  you  indeed  care  to  pursue  this  acquaintance,  I  shall  be  only 
too  happy. 

"  I  certainly  do  '  care,' "  he  replied,  with  a  lingering  pressure  of 
the  hand  she  offered  him  at  parting,  as  he  resigned  her  to  fulfill  an 
engagement  with  a  waiting  partner.  He  lingered  some  time,  but 
seeing  her  continually  surrounded,  and  having  suddenly  discovered 
that  he  was  tired  of  remaining,  he  made  his  adieux  and  departed. 
Mrs.  Bertram  shook  a  warning  finger  at  him  as  he  passed  her,  hat  in 
hanrl,  but  with  a  bow  of  laughing  defiance,  he  passed  on. 

Mr-.  Bertram  reserved  her  comments  for  her  husband's  ear,  and 
a^  they  sat  by  their  own  fire  while  he  smoked  his  good-night  cigar, 
she  said  :  "  Sterling  seemed  quite  interested  in  Miss  Wakefield  this 
evening.  Did  you  notice  it  ?  I  never  saw  him  so  manifestly  '  smit- 
ten,' and  it  is  plain  to  me  that  his  heart  isn't  so  obdurate  for  all 
h's  uttered  heresies  about  women.  If  he  has  enough  talent  to  fall 
in  love  with  any  woman,  it  certainly  will  be  Leonore. Wakefield, 
and  I  hope  it  will." 

"  Nonsense,  Mattie  !     Can't  a  man  admire  a  pretty  woman  with- 


160  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

out  t  iking  leave  of  his  good  sense  at  once  and  forever  ?  I've  yet 
to  learn  that  running  away  from  a  party  in  the  middle  of  the  eve- 
ning, as  lie  did,  is  a  proof  of  having  been  particularly  fascinated 
by  some  one  present.  I  hope  that  your  good  sense  will  effectually 
prevent  you  from  any  effort  at  match-m.iking;  particularly  in  this  in- 
stance, where  nothing  but  trouble  could  ensue  from  it.  Any  man 
who  marries  Miss  Wakefield,  with  that  mystery  in  her  life  uncun- 
fessecl,  will  be  miserable,  depend  upon  it." 

"  And  why  should  it  ba  unconfessed,  as  you  seem  to  suppose  ? 
Every  woman  who  loves  any  man,  is  only  too  willing  to  give  him 
unlimited  confidence.  That  is  what  makes  half  the  trouble  between 
them.  A  wife  who  goes  to  her  husband  with  every  petty  difficulty, 
keeps  him  in  continual  hot  water,  and  it  is  strange  if  amid  his 
writhings  she  doesn't  get  liberally  bespattered  herself.  But  don't 
be  uneasy  lest  I  over-exert  myself  upon  Sterling's  and  Miss  Wake- 
field's  account.  He  is  the  latt  man  in  Christendom  I  should  ever 
presume  to  tamper  with,  and  she  is  as  proud  and  reserved  as  she  is 
beautiful.  I  don't  believe  she  would  marry  him  were  he  to  ask  her, 
for  the  very  reason  that  the  world  would  say  she  had  '  made  a  good 
match.' " 

"  Humph  !  I  'd  advise  him  not  to  risk  it.  It  would  prove  a  sorry  day 
for  him  and  very  probably  for  her,  too.  I  don't  know  what  her  story 
may  be.but  I've  a  suspicion  that  it  is  one  that  she  will  never  confess  to 
him,  nor  to  any  one  else.  She  has  an  undisputed  right  to  a  secret, 
or  a  husband ;  they  don't  go  well  together,  as  she'd  soon  discover." 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  161 


CHAPTER  XV. 
I 

THE  next  evening  Lisle  started  "  to  call  upon  the  Venards,"  as  ho 
stated  in  reply  to  Mrs.  Bertram's  inquiries  as  to  what  took  him  from 
her  house  at  so  early  an  hour ;  for  as  usual  he  had  called  in  passing. 
She  at  once  invited  herself  to  accompany  him,  insisting  that  a  lady 
friend  was  invaluable  for  filling  the  chinks  and  crannies  in  conver- 
sation, with  some  chatty  nothing  that  keeps  the  whole  smooth  and 
complete.  He  had  expected  that  she  would  thus  volunteer,  and  he 
was  glad  that  by  doing  so  she  had  spared  him  the  necessity  for  ask- 
ing her,  as,  much  as  he  wished  for  her  company,  he  -did  not  like  to 
incur  the  banter  he  knew  she  would  inflict  upon  him  for  insinuating 
it.  She  knew,  as  well  as  he  did,  that  "the  Venards"  was  only  a 
convenient  term  including  the  real  attraction  that  led  him  thither ; 
but  she  considerately  refrained  from  any  such  insinuation,  and  only 
as  they  stood  at  the  gate  while  waiting  for  the  bell  to  be  answered, 
did  she  mention  Miss  "Wakefield's  name. 

"  Of  course  Miss  Wakefield  is  included  in  this  call,  Sterling.  I 
don't  know  that  she'll  come  down  to  the  parlors,  but  she  ought, 
alter  having  so  ungraciously  received  you  last  evening  !  I  felt  as 
though  she  had  dashed  cold  water  on  me,  when  she  acknowledged 
the  presentation  I  had  so  informally  made.  What  did  she  say  to 
you,  afterward,  by  way  of  amendment  ?" 

"I  can't  recall  anything  worth  repeating.  She  said  nothing  but 
'  yes '  and  '  no  '  for  a  while,  I  remember ;  and  she  seemed  so  com- 
pletely abstracted,  or  pre-occupied,  that  I  was  afraid  she  would  for- 
get even  that.  Yet  I  know  she  can  talk,  and  that  very  well,  if  she 
chooses.  It -is  a  pity  such  a  woman  should  be  a  formalist.  It 
seems  to  me  the  whole  feminine  race  are  on  a  strife  to  defeat  every- 
thing nature  tries  to  do  for  them !  They  seem  determined  to  equal- 
ize matters  in  some  way,  so  that  ugly  or  pretty,  intelligent  or  vapid, 
there's  little  choice  between  thrin.  If  Miss  Wakefield  would  really 
utter  one  half  she  looks,  she  would  be  irresistible.  One  lady  can 
always  unseal  another's  lips,  and  I  rely  upon  you  to  make  your 


162  THE  HOU81  TTEHIND  THE 

4  prodigy  '  establish  somo  claim  upon  all  your  encomiums.  You  \vill 
hardly  like  to  admit  that  you  have  mistaken  mere  stupidity  for 
'  queenly  pride,'  and  all  that." 

"  I  don't  intend  to  make  any  such  admission.  You  masculines 
are  reasonable  creatures,  really  !  If  a  lady  doesn't  tell  you  all  she 
knows  in  five  minutes,  she  is  '  stupid  ;'  if  she  does,  she  is  '  a  shallow 
cli fitter-box  !'  You  never  seem  to  think  there  may  be  any  difficulty 
in  knowing  just  how  to  address  you.  Everybody  has  seen  talented 
women  chattering  all  sorts  of  nonsense  to  some  man  who  would  have 
appreciated  her  natural  sound  seme,  whereas  she  the  next  moment 
squanders  that  upon  some  simpleton  who  is  mentally  pronouncing 
her  a  blue-stocking.  If  a  lady  with  two  atoms  of  tact,  doesn't  en- 
tertain each  of  you  according  to  his  own  style,  I  don't  see  why  she 
should  bear  off  the  palm  for  '  stupidity.'  Who  tells  you  to  assume 
an  impervious  exterior,  and  often  enough  one  exactly  the  opposite 
of  your  real  selves  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Bertram,  I  have  at  this  moment  fallen  heir  to  an  idea ! 
Thank  you." 

"  Then  ring  that  bell  again.  Ten  to  one  the  old  darkey  who 
keeps  the  key,  can't  be  found.  Whoever  invented  this  provocation 
for  gnashing  of  teeth  oufside  the  gates,  ought  to  be  indicted  !  I 
declare,  I  often  start  out  for  a  little  visit  in  this  way,  feeling  good- 
natured  and  animated  to  the  most  liberal  extent ;  but  while  waiting, 
and  waiting  to  be  admitted,  my  spirits  sink  and  die  out  till  I  am  at 
last  let  in  in  a  most  depressed  and  irritable  condition,  and  if  I  were 
unmarried,  so  that  I  dared  not  exhibit  my  ill-temper,  I  should  really 
turn  and  fly,  in  defence  of  my  reputation  for  amiability." 

"  I  never  heard  that  you  had  any !  It  is  strange  how  long  one's 
most  intimate  friends  often  remain  in  ignorance  of  one's  merits  and 
celebrity !  Here  comes  pur  Cerberus  in  ebony ;  so  don't  make  your 
cntrle  this  time  in  a  mentally  dilapidated  condition.  I  rely  upon 
you  to  banish  the  formality  of  which  I  feel  a  dismal  foreboding  ;  for 
I  meekly  confess  that  Miss  Wakefield  extinguishes  all  my  self-assur- 
ance and  modest  originality.'1'' 

"  So ;  it  seems  we  are  two  sufferers  !  I  never  suspected  'that  you 
had  a'ny'  of  the  last  named  commodity  !  Now  do  let  us  be  polite  be- 
fore people,  or  they  will  begin  to  think  we've  no  respect  for  each 
others  mental  machinery." 

Any  fears  which  Lisle  might  honestly  have  entertained  of  a  formal 
visit,  were  quite  put  to  flight  by  his  first  view  of  the  social  aspect  of 
the  drawing-room,  occupied  by  a  full  family  party  of  which  even 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  163 

Master  Charley  formed  an  integral  portion.  Mr.  Venard's  father  and 
sister  had  that  day  arrived  upon  a  visit  from  the  country,  and  after 
the  usual  presentations,  Lisle  found  himself  without  any  special  effort 
toward  that  satisfactory  consummation,  seated  upon  the  sofa  occupied 
by  Miss  "Wakefield,  with  only  Master  Charley  sandwiched  between 
them,  whose  curly  little  head  offered  no  obstruction  in  the  way  of 
observation  or  sociability,  and  she  herself,  so  far  from  exhibiting  any- 
thing like  constraint,  or  pre-occupation,  was  cordial  and  animated, 
and  her  usually  rather  pale  face  was  now  flushed  upon  either  cheek 
with  a  delicate  color  that  rendered  her  more  perfectly  beautiful. 
Lisle  had  admired  her  before;  he  yielded  his  undivided  homnge 
now,  and  was  really  annoyed  when  their  tete-A-tete  was  broken  in 
upon  by  Miss  Phebe  Venarcl,  who  drew  up  her  chair  with  a  mani- 
fest intention  of  becoming  a  permanent  addition,  as  she  said  with  a 
directness  characteristic  of  her, 

"  Now,  Mr.  Sterling,  do  say  something  to  gratify  my  curiosity  con- 
cerning you.  They  say  you  are  very  peculiar  in  your  ideas  upon 
must  subjects,  and  strikingly  original  and  independent  in  your  ex- 
pression of  them.  I  dp  so  admire  originality  and  independence ! 
don't  you  ?'' 

Lisle  bowed  with  as  much  gravity  as  politeness  demanded,  nnd 
Miss  Wakefield  turned  upon  him  a  glance  full  of  suppressed  mirth, 
under  which  his  usual  quickness  and  tact  quite  deserted  him. 

'•  To  whom  am  I  indebted  for  so  favorable  a  judgment  ?"  he  asked 
with  a  feeling  of  secret  satisfaction  that  so  far  as  one  brief  sentence 
could  impeach  the  veracity  of  the  testimony,  he  had  succeeded  in 
doing  so,  since  ninety-nine  persons  in  a  hundred  would  have  uttered 
the  same  to  all  effect. 

"  Oh,  everybody,  for  that  matter,  including  Miss  Wakefield  her- 
self." 

Lisle  returned  the  glance  he  had  but  the  previous  instant  re- 
ceived, accompanying  it  with  a  salutation  of  mock  reverence,  under 
which  she  colored  visibly,  despite  the  frankness  with  which  she 
turned  toward  Miss  Venarcl. 

"  Now,  Miss  Phebe,  do  confess  that  whatever  you  might  have  un- 
derstood me  as  meaning  to  express,  I  did  not  say  just  that." 

"  Oh,  of  course  one  is  not  expected  to  repeat  such  things  just  lit- 
erally, but  I  recollect  you  quite  agreed  with  sister  Em  when  she 
said  something  like  it,  and  that  you  added  that  'he  is  magnanimous 
as ' — something,  I  forget  what — as  you  are  so  particular  about  the  ex- 
act words.  Don't  you  remember  that  Em  asked  you  how  upon 


164  •  THE   HOUSE  BEniXD   TIIE   POPLARS. 


earth  you  made  such  a  discovery  in  one  short  evening,  when  she 
thought  him  an  absolute  cynic  after  all  the  time  she  bad  known 
him?" 

Master  Charley  had  manifested  a  growing  uneasiness  under  his 
own  conversational  inaction,  which  here  defied  ail  farther  restraint  ; 
and  suddenly  elevating  himself  to  a  more  satisfactory  position,  he 
said  sturdily,  with  a  warning  finger  raised  towards  his  young  aunt, 

"  Come,  now,  aunt  Phcbe  ;  if  you're  to  tell_tales  on  everybody  eke, 
just  tell  what  you  said.  Don't  shirk  it  oft",  now  !'' 

"  Hush.  Charley.  '  Little  boys  should  be  seen  and  not  heard.'  It 
is  bad  enough  that  they  should  have  ears  ;  but  they  never  must  have 
tongues,"  and  Miss  Phebe  threw  into  a  warning  g'ance  the  irritabili- 
ty she  contrived  to  banish  from  her  tone.  Charley  caught  it,  and 
hesitated. 

Lisle  extended  a  shining  "  quarter,"  and  patting  his  curly  head, 
said  encouragingly, 

t;  Here,  Charley,  if  it  is  worth  more,  just  name  your  price.  Let  us 
have  Miss  Phebe's  remark  with  the  rest." 

Charley  pressed  the  quarter  with  a  cordial  palm,  and  stimulated 
by  its  comforting  contact,  braved  the  gathering  displeasure. 

"  She  said  she  was  just  out  of  an  engagement,  au.l  you  were  exact- 
ly the  style  of  man  she  wanted  for  the  next  one,  because,  she  sai  1,  it 
was  so  nice  to  just  wind  around  her  finger  a  man  everybody  else  was 
afraid  of,  and  so  nice  to  marry  rich  !  Yes,  you  did,  aunt  Phebe  ;  I 
heard  you." 

"  I'm  your  debtor  for  another  quarter,  Charley.  That  is  too  cheap 
at  one." 

Miss  Venard  flushed  up  angrily,  and  after  an  instant's  unsuccessful 
struggle  to  get  the  better  of  it.  she  gave  expression  to  her  choler. 

"Well,  I  must  say,  Mr.  Sterling,  that  you  are  '  peculiar'  enough, 
if  your  idea  of  politeness  is  consistent  with  hiring  little  boys  to  tell 
tales  out  of  the  family.  If  I  couldn't  find  out  what  people  said  and 
thought  about  me  without  stooping  to  that,  I'd  remain  in  blissful 
ignorance.  You  are  as  vain  as  you  are  malicious.  Th> 

"  I  believe  I  am  :  thank  you.  Does  your  vacation  occur  so  early 
in  the  season,  and  if  so.  will  you  remain  here  long  enough  to  allow 
me  to  retrieve  myself  in  your  estimation  ?'' 

"  Thank  you  :  I'm  not  just  from  school,  though  you  choose  to  in- 
sinuate it,"  and  she  wheeled  back  her  chair  and  walked  away  i 
nantly. 

Amused  though  disapproving,  Miss  T7akefield  toyed  with  her 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLARS.  165 

watch  chain  without  once  lifting  her  eyes.     A  moment's  silence  suc- 
ceeded Miss  Phebe's  retreat,  and  then  Lisle  said  deprecatingly, 

"  You  think  me  a  savage,  Miss  Wakefleld,  I  have  no  doubt- 
Granted,  but  with  the  addenda  that  I  know  better,  if  I  don't  always 
practise  it.  But  do  tell  me  what  one  is  to  do  when  one  is  offered  the 
actual  premium  for  successful  torment  which  Miss  Venard  holds  out. 
Besides,  you  will  admit  that  she  received  as  much  consideration  and 
mercy  as  she  bestowed  upon  others." 

"  If  none  of  us  ever  received  more  than  we  bestow,  this  would  be 
a  most  uncharitable  world.  We  are  all  of  us  too  apt  to  choose  the 
lesser  blessing  of  receiving;  particularly  where  charity  and  loving 
kindness  are  involved." 

"  One  has  the  '  inward  and  spiritual  grace '  to  extend  loving  kind- 
ness only  to  a  certain  class  of  unpretty  doers." 

She  made  no  reply  save  what  was  involuntarily  written  on  her 
softly  serious  face  ;  and,  really  wishing  her  to  speak  it,  Lisle  said  so. 

"  Thank  you.  I  have  no  gift  for  lecturing,"  she  replied  with  a 
smihj. 

"  In  which  very  assertion,  permit  me  to  say.  you  utter  the  strongest 
proof  to  the  contrary.  One  who  distrusts  his  own  talent  in  any  par- 
ticular field,  is  little  apt  to  overdo  the  matter,  which  is  the  one  error 
to  be  avoided  in  this  species  of  lecturing.  I  rather  pride  myself 
upon  my  candor ;  so  I  will  admit  that  enjoying  another's  discomfiture 
h  a  most  abominable  revelation  of  character  and  disposition.  I 
haven't  even  sprouted  for  a  saint ;  and  I  don't  repent  and  sin  no 
more,  from  a  deadly  fear  that  I  should  be  a  loser  by 'the  exchange. 
Before  one  turns  from  the  errors  of  his  ways,  if  he  has  a  turn  for 
calculation,  he  will  seriously  question  whether  he  derives  more  hap- 
piness from  his  sins  than  he  could  do  from  the  contemplated  virtues. 
Being  good  must  have  its  rewards,  or  so  many  sensible  people 
wouldn't  be  so  ;  but  in  a  business  point  of  view,  it  isn't  well  to  sac- 
riiice  a  known  advantage  to  a  problematical  gain.  Did  you  really 
pronounce  me  '  magnanimous,'  and  if  so,  may  I  ask  upon  what  you 
based  such  a  supposition ?" 

"  Oh  fie,  to  beg  for  a  sugar-plum  after  such  a  naughty  speech  as 
that !  Did  I  not  know  that  you  are  not  one-half  as  bad  as  your 
declarations  would  stamp  you,  I  would  not  admit  that  I  did  say  so, 
and  add,  as  I  do,  that  it  is  not  a  mere  '  supposition.'1 " 

"  I  must  then  believe  that  you  are  an  equal  believer  with  myself" 
in  the  correctness  of  impressions.  You  may  recollect  that  we  were 
speaking  upon  them  last  evening.  Sometime,  not  yet,  I  am  going 


106  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

to  accuse  you  of  having  conceived  a  most  unflattering  one  of  me 
when  I  received  the  honor  of  a  presentation  to  you." 

"  I  deny  the  accusation  at  once  and  forever." 

"  Indifference,  if  not  dislike,  spoke  in  your  every  gesture." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Sterling  !  how  unjustly  we  comment  upon  the  actions 
of  others  !  I  had  long  before  last  night  received  my  impressions  of 
you,  and  I  tell  you,  truly,  that  if  I  appeared  taciturn  and  frigid,  it 
was  the  sincerest  compliment  I  could  have  bestowed  upon  you." 

''Thank  you;  but  don't  punish  me  with  any  more  of  a  similar 
kind.  I'm  not  equal  to  a  just  appreciation  of  that  school  of  flattery. 
1  shall  value  all  manifestations  of  your  good  opinion  of  me  more 
highly  than  I  can  express." 

"  Do  not  flatter  me,  Mr.  Sterling,  I  beg.  One  expects  such  lan- 
guage from  so-called  '  ladies'  men  ;'  but  one  hopes  for  other  things 
from  those  whose  honest  opinions  and  sentiments  are  more  highly 
prized  than  any  fictitious  ones  could  be." 

There  was  an  unmistakable  air  of  frankness  and  sincerity  in  tho 
utterance  of  these  words,  that  placed  them  far  above  the  category 
of  mere  compliment ;  and  Lisle  bowed  for  once  in  sincere  acknowl- 
edgment. Miss  Venard  again  approached  them,  having  conquered 
her  former  indignation,  and  feeling  that  she  owed  an  apology  for  the 
hasty  words  she  had  spoken  under  its  influence.  She  was  not  so 
really  ill-tempered  as  she  was  hasty;  and  with  a  good-humored  laugh 
she  addressed  her  late  adversary, 

"  I  excuse  your  insinuation  that  I  am  a  mere  ill-bred  school-girl, 
without  asking  you  to  offer  any  apology  for  having  provoked  me 
into  such  an  exhibition  of  temper ;  but  weren't  you  taught  to  make 
suitable  amends  without  waiting  for  them  to  be  demanded  ?  Don't 
they  teach  magnanimity  at  college  ?'' 

"  I  don't  know ;  J  never  was  in  college.  My  mental  training  was 
received  from  a  private  tutor  whose  ruling  characteristic  was  not  of 
the  brotherly-love  and  golden-rule  school.  I  believe  I  owe  you  an 
apology,  and  I'd  make  it,  forthwith,  were  I  not  morally  certain  I 
should  have  to  repeat  the  process  indefinitely.  When  one  is  so  well 
aware  of  one's  short  comings,  it  is  dangerous  and  inconvenient  to  es- 
tablish a  precedent  to  which  one  is  forever  after  expected  to  adhere. 
Don't  look  so  serious,  Miss  Wakefield.  Do  I  speak  too  lightly  of 
such  very  weighty  matters  ?'' 

The  unexpected  address  roused  her  with  a  little  start  from  a  brief 
but  absorbing  reverie,  and,  slightly  confused,  she  said, 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAK3.  167 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Sterling.  Were  you  again  nominating 
me  to  your  evidently  vacant  censorship  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  thus  choose  to  define  it." 

"  I  beg  leave  to  decline  it.  I  have  no  ambition  to  4  set  up  in  life ' 
as  an  ogress.  If,  as  I  believe,  Miss  Venard  makes  you  sincere  over- 
tures of  peace,  I  do  not  see  how  you  can  well  refuse  to  accept  them; 
but  if  there  really  exists  any  insuperable  objections,  my  advice  would 
be  as  ineffectual  as  misplaced." 

"  Oh,  I  have  accepted  them ;  that  is  not  the  question  as  issue. 
You  have  evidently  repeated  the  style  of  compliment  I  begged  to  be 
excused  from  receiving  henceforth.  The  query  is,  do  I  owe  Miss 
Venard  an  apology." 

"  Decidedly  yes,  or  you  will  win  no  laurels  for  generosity." 

"Please  consider  it  made,  Miss  Venard.  Charley,  isn't  Miss 
Wakefield  very  strict  and  cross,  generally  ?" 

"  Yes,  she  scolds  me  like  everthing  sometimes.  I  wish  you  could 
hear  her  once!" 

"  I  wish  I  could,  but  as  young  ladies  never  scold  in  the  presence 
of  gentlemen,  just  tell  me  how  she  does  it.  What  does  she  say  when 
she  is  cross  ?" 

"  Oh,  she  puts  her  hands  up  to  her  temples,  so,  and  draws  down 
her  mouth  as  if  it  was  cram-full  of  miseries,  and  kind  of  whines  out 
4  Oh,  Charley,  do  be  good  and  pay  attention  now  !  I'm  so  miserable, 
and  I  want  to  get  these  lessons  out  of  the  way ;'  and  then  when  I  dig 
into  'em  and  get  all  through,  she  just  leads  me  out  and  then  locks 
the  door  behind  me  for  ever  so  long,  and  won't  come  down  to  dinner 
nor  anything,  and  sometimes  I  hear  her  just  cry  and  cry !  she's  BO 
mad  about  something." 

The  relation  was  not  as  amusing  as  it  promised  to  have  been,  and 
Miss  Wakefield's  face  paled  and  flushed  as  she  nervously  clutched 
Charley's  little  hand  with  her  own  trembling  one,  in  a  mute  appeal 
for  silence.  Pained  by  the  revelation  of  stiffering  his  bantering  had 
evoked,  Lisle  cast  one  pitying  glance  upon  her  half-averted  face,  and 
hailed  as  a  god-send  Miss  Venard's  next  question,  which  she  had 
been  deliberating  in  perfect  unconsciousness  of  this  little  scene  and 
its  embarrassing  dknmiement. 

44  Mr.  Sterling,  what  is  the  cost  of  a  good,  comfortable  coffin  ?  Not 
something  handsome,  like  that  a  gentleman  gets  for  his  first  wife  ; 
but  a  plain  one — say  a  mother's-in  law,  for  instance." 

4*  It  depends  very  much  upon  circumstances.  Demand  and 
supply  would  have  something  to  do  with  the  question ;  and  the 


168  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

place  in  which  it  was  ordered ;  in  fact,  many  things  render  youi 
question  difficult  to  answer." 

"  Now  that's  just  like  a  man's  answer  ;  always  so  wrapped  up  in 
generalities  or  exceptions,  that  there's  no  satisfaction  to  be  gotten 
fruin  it.  It  is  important  that  I  should  know,  for  a  reason  which  I 
may  sometime  tell  you.  I  don't  want  to  over-estimate  the  reasona: 
ble  cost  of  the  article,  as  it  is  to  be  bought  upon  subscription,  and 
it  wouldn't  look  well  to  seem  grasping  and  ambitious." 
|  "  It  takes  no  more  time  to  ask  for  a  pound  than  a  penny,  and 
from  a  certain  class  one  is  even  more  apt  to  receive  it.  I  will  sub- 
scribe very  cheerfully,  if  it  is  an  object  of  such  interest  to  you." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  understand,  of  course  ;  so  in  return  for  your  kind 
offer,  I'll  take  you  into  confidence  at  once.  I'm  writing  a  book  ; 
and  my  hero,  who  is  very  poor,  is  obliged  to  bury  his  own  dead 
mother  by  contribution.  It  will  tell  well  if  the  details  are  nicely 
setfo:th." 

"  Accept  my  best  wishes  for  your  success.  May  I  ask  when  you 
intend  to  publish  ?"  said  Lisle,  with  most  becoming  gravity. 

"  I  can't  exactly  say.  I  am  already  in  correspondence  upon  the 
subject ;  but  it  seems  to  be  a  trick  with  publishers  to  decline,  and 
decline,  till  an  author  is  so  discouraged  and  broken-spirited  that  he 
will  sell  his  copyright  for  most  anything,  and  thank  Heaven  he  has 
at  last  received  an  offer  for  it.  Don't  you  think  genius  and  talent 
are  very  poorly  rewarded,  Mr.  Sterling  ?'' 

"I  believe  that  is  the  individual  complaint  of  at  least  one-half  the 
wotld.  Your  opinion  is  doubtlessly  quite  correct ;  but  allow  me  to 
hope  that  your  own  may  prove  an  exception  to  the  general  rule." 

"  Thank  you.  You  can  render  yourself  quite  agreeable  when  you 
choose,  I  perceive,'1  said  Miss  Phebe,  entirely  mollified  by  his  seem- 
ing courtesy. 

Miss  Wakefteld  raised  her  eyes  with  a  deprecating  expression; 
for  her  tender  henrt  shrank  from  anything  like  practising  upon  an- 
other's credulity,  however  flattering  might  be  the  manner  that  con- 
cealed it  from  its  victim.  She  knew  that  Lisle  had  no  respect  for 
Miss  Venard's  shallow  intellect,  that  he  was  no  believer  in  the  genius 
she  assumed  to  possess;  and  she  could  not  attribute  solely  to  a  spirit 
of  kindness  the  flattering  remarks  which  had  afforded  their  recipi- 
ent such  entire  satisfaction. 

Again  Lisle  met  her  reproving  glance ;  and,  inconsistent  as  he 
knew  it  to  be,  it  increased  his  admiration  and  respect  for  her.  He 
had  resolved  to  win  her  confidence  so  far  as  doing  so  would  enable 


TUB  HOUSJi  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  169 

him  more  fully  to  befriend  her  in  her  need  of  protection  and  trust- 
ing kindness  under  any  and  all  emergencies ;  he  had  felt  that  he 
was  the  stronger  and  more  fortunate  of  the  two,  but  already  the 
spirit  in  which  he  had  made  this  resolve  was  changed. 

It  no  longer  depended  for  its  vitality  upon  a  sentiment  of  un- 
mixed compassion  for  all  who  suffered  under  a  heavy  if  invisible  bur- 
den of  woe ;  but  a  thorough  respect,  mingled  with  a  more  tender 
and  intense  pity  for  one  so  gentle  and  wom-mly,  who  yet  struggled 
under  a  burden  doubly  heavy  from  its  attendant  humiliations,  forced 
upon  him  the  consciousness  that  henceforth  his"  mission  of  mercy 
and  sympathy  could  claim  no  credft  for  personal  disinterestedness. 
It  was  Leonore  Wukefield  he  would  serve — not  merely  the  suffering 
woman. 

Thus  far,  as  if  by  common  consent,  they  had  been  left  almost  un- 
interrupted in  their  tete-d-tete,  Miss  Venard  being  the  only  one  who 
had  disturbed  it ;  but  Miss  Wakefield  was  now  urged  to  the  piano, 
and  yielding  to  his  own  consciousness  of  propriety  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, Lisle  made  no  move  to  accompany  her,  leaving  the  office 
of  page  turner  to  whoever  might  choose  to  fill  it,  while  he  drew 
near  that  little  circle  by  the  fire.  Mrs.  Venard  and  Mrs.  Bertram 
were  holding  a  confidential  conversation  in  a  tone  too  low  to  disturb 
those  who  listened  more  attentively  to  the  music  ;  and  Lisle,  who 
was  nearest  them,  caught  only  now  and  then  a  word.  They  were 
speaking  of  Miss  Wakefield,  for  Mrs.  Bertram  exclaimed,  sotto  voce, 

"  How  magnificently  she  does  play !  Do  you  suppose  it  possible 
that  she  is  some  prima  donna,  incognito  ?" 

"  Impossible.  She  hasn't  the  manner.  It  is  more  probable  that 
she  is  some  once  fine  lady,  reduced  to  support  herself  by  turning 
her  accomplishments  to  a  practical  account ;  but  she  never  utters 
one  sentence  upon  which  to  base  any  tangible  suspicion,  and  it 
would  be  a  strange  person  who  could  presume  to  ask  her  a  direct 
question  upon  the  subject.  Even  Phebe  will  hardly  venture  that. 
It  is  seldom  one  sees  so  much  gentleness  blended  with  such  perfect 
eelf-reliance  and  reticence.  Charley  hangs  around  her  unceasingly, 
and  very  few  young  ladies  would  feel  the  interest  in  him  she  does. 
She  seems  fond  of  children,  yet  is  as  judicious  with  him  as  any 
mother  could  be." 

"  Don't  you  fancy  Sterling  is  not  a  little  captivated  ?" 

"I  don't  know.  He  is  such  a  Mephistopheles,  and  no  ladies' 
man." 

"  That  is  just  tho  point  upon  which  I  base  my  suspicions."  Were 


170  THE  HOUSE  BEB1UD  THE  TOPLAUS. 

he  a  ladies'  man,  a  manifest  interest  would  be  significant  of  noth- 
ing ;  and  as  to  MephLstophelisin,  a  good  wife  would  soon  cure  him 
of  all  that." 

"  Well,  this  would  be  a  good  match,  certainly,  in  all  that  goes  to 
constitute  really  good  matches,  whatever  the  world  might  say  of 
it.  However,  it  13  all  nonsense  to  discuss  it,  as  only  this  morning 
she  said  very  seriou?ly  that  she  should  never  many  ;  that  she  had 
&een  so  many  unhappy  marriages  that  nothing  could  induce  her  to 
run  the  risk  of  adding  another  to  the  list." 

"  Wait  till  she  falls  in  love  with  some  one.  No  young  lady  in 
such  a  mental  state  ever  thought  that  she  could  be  running  any  ^uch 
risk.  I  dou't  wish  any  one  any  evil ;  but  if  they  two  ever  will 
marry  any  one,  I  hope  it  will  be  each  other.  Does  your  husband 
administer  you  a  matrimonial  'snub'  when  you  canvass  matrimonial 
possibilities '?" 

"I  don't  remember  that  I  ever  did  so  in  his  hearing.  There  are 
some  things  that  should  never  be  mentioned  in  the  presence  of  any 
masculine,  and  this  is  undeniably  the  chief  unmentionable  among 
them.  Is  Sterling  fastidious  in  such  matters  1" 

"  Not  a  d  >ubt  of  it.  He  entertains  some  strange  ideas  connected 
with  it,  though.  For  instance,  he  declares  that  had  he  a  wife  who 
would  under  any  circumstances  deceive  him,  even  in  a  trifle,  he 
should  lose  his  respect  for  her,  even  if  he  brought  himself  ever  to  for- 
give her. " 

The  music  had  ceased  while  Mrs.  Bercrain  was  speaking,  and  the 
sentence  that  would  otherwise  hnve  been  inaudible  to  any  one  save 
hiT  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  was  overheard  byalL  Mrs.  Bertram 
laughed. 

'•  Yes.  Sterling,  I  admit  that  I  am  detected  in  the  very  impolite 
net  of  diseasing  my  friends  in  their  very  presence — my  only  excuse 
being  that  I  fe;t  assured  they  would  never  know  it.  But  since  I  am 
thus  far  humiliated,  do  confers  that  what  I  accused  you  of  is  every 
w>>rd  true." 

1  Most  willingly,  and  I  hereby  reassert  that  very  harsh  declara- 
tion. Women  can  never  understand  the  perfect  dread  men  have  of 
domestic  intrigue  in  any  degree." 

"  And  men  can  never  understand  the  impracticability,  if  not  utter 
impossibility,  of  the  implicit  confidence  they  ex-'ct  as  an  ir.alien-tblo 
right ;  while,  to  make  mutters  still  worse,  they  are  painfully  prono 
to  see  mountains  in  the  veriest  molehills  upon  the  domestic  territory. 
A  natural  desire  to  spare  him  annoyance — a  little  feeling  of  pride 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS;  171 

which  leads  one  to  shrink  from  making  some  humiliating  revelation 
perfectly  unimportant  in  itself — these  and  many  kindred  reasons  for 
silence  are  quite  ignored,  and  we  are  expected  to  make  sacrifices 
that  not  one  man  among  you  all,  could  or  would  offer  towards  this 
beautiful  so  called  '  confidence.' " 

"  With  all  due  respect  for  your  creed,  allow  me  to  suggest  that 
much  which  passes  in  this  world  for  reason,  is  only  sophistry — a 
sort  of  soothing  balm  for  an  unwilling  mind — and  the  mountains  to 
which  you  allude,  are  lcs.i  frequently  evoked  from  the  metaphorical 
molehills  themselves,  than  from  the  screen  by  which  you  attempt  to 
conceal  their  existence.  If  a  husband  feels  that  his  own  wife  stoops 
to  petty  trickery  against  him,  where  under  Heaven  is  lie  to  expect 
faith  and  companionship  ?" 

Miss  Wakefield  looked  up  as  if  surprised  at  Ms  earnestness,  as  in. 
deed  were  all,  little  suspecting  the  bitter  school  in  which  he  had  so 
early  learned  to  hate  nn  I  despise  woman's  treachery.  How  cou.d 
they  know  that  his  own  mother  had,  for  him,  cast  over  her  whole 
sex  a  pall  of  aching  doubt  and  suspicion,  which  had  never  yet  been 
lifted,  perhaps  never  could  be  torn  wholly  away.  Miss  Vcnard  petu- 
lantly exclaimed, 

"Bless  us  and  save  us  !  how  many  wives  must  you  have  had,  that 
you  seem  to  have  suffered  the  whole  catalogue  of  misery  ?" 

"Probably  the  whole  number  destined  for  me,"  he  replied  cour- 
teously. 

Mrs.  Venard  said,  more  seriously,  "  If  you  every  do  marry,  your 
wife  will  be  a  most  perfect,  or  moit  miserable  woman.  Very  few 
could  every  attain  your  standard." 

"  Any  wife  I  may  ever  have,  will  be  fully  apprised  of  my  peculiar 
theory — if  it  is  peculiar — after  which  I  shall  be  hers  as  she  shall  ds- 
cLlc.  I  could  overlook  almost  any  secret  in  the  past,  even  if  uncon- 
fcs5ed ;  but  one  existing  in  the  very  present,  necessitating  daily 
trickery  and  deception  bordering  upon  actual  falsehood,  shutting  in 
the  best  part  of  life  by  an  ever  visible  barrier  against  which  a  hus- 
band's heart  an  1  brain  beat  themselves  to  death,  purgatory  itself 
can  offer  nothing  equal  to  it !" 

-  Mr.  Venard  came  to  the  rescue  of  the  ladies,  who  were  silenced  by 
Lislc's  exhibition  of  feeling.  "Don't  be  unreasonable  in  your  de- 
mands upon  the  sex,  Sterling.  We  all  know  that  a  man's  brain, 
wracked  with  business  cares,  and  preoccupied  to  positive  surliness, 
ia  not  a  gracious  receptacle  for  a  woman's  '  confidences,'  usually 
necessitated  by  her  own  errors  in  judgment,  as  she  knows  well 


172  THE  IIOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

enough,  before  we  so  assure  her.  When  we  have  committed  an, 
error,  we  go  to  work  to  rectify  it  as  silently  as  may  be ;  and  when 
we  have  succeeded,  not  the  least  part  of  our  satisfaction  arises  from 
the  Jact  that  no  one  else  knew  anything  of  it.  I  don't  think  that 
husbands,  as  a  class,  at  all  over-rate  their  wives'  soundness  of  judg- 
ment, and  they  are  excusable  for  believing  that  next  not  to  having 
done  an  ill-judged  thing,  is  its  happy  concealment.  Marry  a  good, 
f  sensible  woman,  Sterling,  and  you'll  soon  be  more  liberal  in  your 
creed.  The  happiest  couple  I  ever  knew  was  one  in  which  the  w<fj 
had  been  divorced  from  two  former  husbands  previously  to  having 
accepted  the  present  one,  who,  as  he  had  no  suspicion  of  the  fact, 
never  thought  to  Uameher  for  all  temporary  misunderstandings,  upon 
the  natural  score  that  no  one  else  had  been  able  to  live  with  her. 
The  poor  fellow  even  conscientiously  believed  himself  somtimes  im- 
perfect, and  honestly  confessed  it  to  her  1" 

There  was  a  general  laugh  in  which  all  joined  but  Lisle,  who  re- 
plied very  seriously, 

"  I  don't  see  that  her  confession  of  such  a  fact  would  materially 
have  altered  their  relationship  as  to  candor  and  mutual  forbearance, 
if  he  could  have  reconciled  his  conscience  to  marrying  her  under 
such  circumstances.  For  me,  one  previous  husband  would  have 
been  quite  sufficient  had  I  learned  his  existence  from  any  one  save 
herself,  and  too  many  were  he  still  alive.  I  do  not  believe  in  the 
legality  of  second  marriage,  where  any  power  save  that  of  death  an- 
nulled the  first  one." 

A  simultaneous  ejaculation  from  all  present  evinced  the  unquali- 
fied dissent  with  which  this  opinion  was  received ;  and  Mrs.  Venard 
said, 

"  Mr.  Sterling  must  lock  upon  marriage  from  a  Catholic  point  of 
view.  It  seems  to  me  unreasonable  indeed,  if  the  laws  which  Icgal- 
izo  what  one  considers  a  mere  civil  contract,  cannot  also  annul  it." 

<;Mr.  Sterlings  views  and  opinions  upon  the  matter  are  altogether 
too  unimportant  to  merit  farther  argument  in  this  assembly ;  and  as 
,  he  never  anticipates  being  placed  in  any  personal  dilemma  of  the 
nature  thus  under  discussion,  he  declines  to  do  battle  in  their  justi- 
fication," he  replied,  bowing  ceremoniously  and  with  playful  gal- 
lantry ;  and  while  the  others  laughed,  Miss  Wakefield  silently  left 
the  music  chair  in  which  she  had  all  this  time  remained  without 
once  having  joined  in  the  conversation,  and  without  so  much  as  a 
smile  resumed  her  place  upon  the  sof  i  beside  Charley,  who  was  rub. 
bing  his  knuckles  into  his  eyes  and  faithfully  struggling  with  a  crop 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  173 

of  persistent  yawns.  Pillowing  his  head  upon  her  lap,  she  twined 
his  curls  around  her  finger,  with  an  air  of  absent-mindedness  under 
which  Lisle  experienced  the  prick  of  a  thorn  of  vexation  with  him- 
self. How  much  of  all  this  conversation,  relating  to  feminine  se- 
crets had  she  understood  as  practical  preaching  at,  or  at  least 
against,  herself !  He  was  pained  to  think  how  much  of  it  must  have 
seemed  directly  applicable  to  herself,  and  with  a  woman's  instinctive 
self  depreciation,  and  proneness  to  meet  every  thrust  at  self-love 
more  than  half  way,  she  might  have  thought  the  whole  especially 
aimed  at  her.  Vexed  that  he  should  have  rendered  himself  liable  to 
such  a  suspicion,  he  reclaimed  the  seat  beside  her,  and  waited  for 
her  to  address  him  and  so  give  some  clue  to  her  feeling. 
Master  Charley  roused  himself  to  utter  a  remonstrance. 
"  "What  makes  you  all  talk  such  stupid  things  to-night,  Mr.  Ster- 
ling ?  It  isn't  so  very  pleasant  for  a  boy  to  sit  still  under  it  all,  when 
he  knows  that  if  he  so  much  as  gapes  once,  he'll  be  hustled  off  to 
bed  in  no  time  !  You  used  to  be  a  glorious  funny  fellow ;  but  lately 
you've  looked — well—; -just  as  if  you'd  got  to  go  to  church  and  didn't 
want  to  /" 

"  Well,  I've  come  back  now  to  be  a  good  fellow  again.  I  didn't 
fare  very  well  out  there,  I  can  tell  you,  and  Miss  Wakefield  thinks 
I  ought  to  travel  as  a  Bruin  in  a  menagerie,  and  wear  a  shaggy 
coat." 

"  No  she  doesn't.  Miss  Wakefield  never  thinks  hard  things  about 
anybody.  She  is  so  soft  like,  and  good  ;  I'm  sorry  I  said  she  was 
cross  and  cried  because  she  got  mad.  I  was  mad  with  Aunt  Phebe 
or  I  shouldn't  have  said  it ;  she's  the  one  that's  got  the  temper  ! 
Grandpa  says  if  she  doesn't  get  married  pretty  quick,  he'll  have  to 
put  her  out  to  board,  because  he  can't  stand  it." 

"  Charley,  my  child,  is  it  right  to  speak  so  of  your  aunt,  or  of  any 
one  ?"  asked  Miss  Wakefield,  with  gentle  reproof. 

"  Well,  why  isn't  she  good  like  you  ?  Hadn't  she  a  good  ma  as 
you  had  to  tell  her  better  ?"  She  made  no  reply,  and  Lisle  asked 
with  careless  politeness, 

"Is  your  own  mother  living,  Miss  Wakefield  ?" 
"  Not  to  me,"  she  answered,  so  low  and  softly  as  to  be  almost  in- 
audible. Unconscious  of  what  he  was  doing,  Lisle  pressed  with  his 
own  the  little  hand  that  lay  near  him  across  Charley's  recumbent 
figure.  The  glance  of  surprise  she  turned  upon  his  face  awoke  him 
to  a  sense  of  his  misdemeanor.  But  she  was  no  prude  ;  and,  read- 
ing in  that  look  that  his  action  was  but  an  involuntary  tribute  of 


174  THE  nOTJSE  r.EITIND  THE  roPLAttS. 

sympathy,  site  checked  the  apology  he  promptly  commenced,  by 
saying  very  gently  and  simply, 

"I  accept  it  as  it  was  meant,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I 
thank  you  for  the  kind  spirit  that  prompted  it.  I  have  often  most 
bitleiiy  felt  the  need  of  friendship,  and  I  should  be  false  indeed  to 
my  own  soul,~_did  I  affect  to  resent  any  involuntary  exhibition 
of  it." 

Could  anything  have  increased  the  respect  he  had  already  con- 
ceived for  her,  this  unaffected  simplicity  and  frankness  would  have 
done  so,  and  he  answered  with  earnestness, 

"  If  you  will  honor  me  with  the  name  of  friend,  I  will  deserve  the 
title  if  it  be  possible.  I  am  not  altogether  harsh  and  unfeeling,  and 
your  friendship  will  be  as  highly  prized  by  me  as  mine  can  be  by 
you." 

"  But  not  so  severely  tested.  I  may  try  yours  more  severely  than 
you  think ;  and  I  forewarn  you  that  when  I  seem  most  unreasona- 
ble, I  can  least  explain.  Do  you  withdraw  from  the  compact  after 
this  declaration?  " 

"  Never.  The  friendship  that  is  untried,  is  unpreven.  Besides, 
I  am  not  as  severe  as  you  have  reason  to  imagine  me.  I  have  both 
charity  and  generosity  towards  niy  friends,  and  I  am  never  harsh 
and  relentless  except  where  another  is  compelled  to  suffer  for  deeds 
over  which  he  has  not  the  slightest  responsibility.  I  have  served  a 
bitter  apprenticeship  at  this,  and  if  I  sometimes  seem  unforgiving 
and  stern,  it  is  no  marvel.  And  now  let  me  show  you  what  shall  be 
my  first  act  in  ratification  of  our  treaty.  I'm  going  home.  It  was 
unconscionable  to  wait  till  ten  o'clock  before  announcing  such  a  res- 
olution; but  I  quite  forgot  that  you  indulged  in  unaccustomed  dis- 
sipation last  night.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  win  you  from  such  quiet 
'paths  of  pleasantness  and  peace.'  When  may  I  come  again  ?" 

"  That  shall  be  left  for  you  to  determine.  I  am  always  at  home." 
'  "Thank  you;  and  good-night.  Mrs.  Bertram,  shall  I  have  the 
honor,  etc*.  ?  It  is  ten  o'clock." 

"Good-nights"  were  quickly  given  and  received,  and  as  they 
sallied  out,  Mrs.  Bertram  said,  "I  knew  it  was  ten  o'clock,  but  how 
did  you  find  it  out?  Now  if  you've  a  spark  of  gratitude  in  your 
bosom,  do  thank  me  for  assisting  you  to  a  pleasant  evening.  Y«u 
know  that  had  you  come  alone  you  wouldn't  have  remained  half 
an  hour,,  and  not  that  with  any  satisfaction." 

."  Liege  lady,  accept  your  humble  servant's  most  sincere  and  rev- 


THE  HOUSE   LEHLXD  THE   POPLARS.  175 

erential  thanks.  If  you  are  ever  left  au  interesting  young  widow,  I 
will  repay  your  gracious  services  in  kind  and  in  proportion.  May 
a  consciousness  of  your  virtuous  action  sweeten  your  sleep  ;  and  so 
I  bid  you  good-night.;' 


176  THE   HOUSE   BEH1XD   TITE   POPLAR!?. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  MOST  unstaisfactory  week  succeeded  this  visit  to  the  Venards  ; 
a  week  of  pouring  rain  or  even  more  dejecting  drizzle,  during  which 
a  cold,  gray  fog  obscured  the  very  sky  uninspired  by  one  glimpse 
of  sunshine.  Eveiy  gutter  was  swollen  to  a  miniature  river,  and  the 
paved  streets  were  deeply  covered  with  mud  that  spattered  against 
the  carriage  windows  and  meandered  down  them  grotesquely  as 
Lis'.e  made  his  daily  pilgrimages  to  and  from  the  office. 

The  cold  dampness  without  penetrated  the  very  walla  of  the 
house  and  lay  glistening  and  heavy  upon  them,  despite  continual 
fires  and  o!t  repeated  drying  processes,  and  twice  Lisle  subjected  him- 
self to  the  war  of  wind  and  storm  that  beat  upon  his  doors  in  very 
challenge,  in  the  hope  to  find  at  Venard's  the  cheerfulness  that  his 
own  gloomy  home  denied  him.  The  first  time  he  was  greeted  by 
the  usual  family  circle,  of  which  Miss  Phebe  still  formed  a  member, 
and  he  waited  in  momentary  expectation  of  Miss  Wakefield's  ap- 
penrance,  till  despairing  at  last,  and  tired  of  Miss  Phebe's  chatter,  he 
left,  with  a  merely  polite  inquiry  if  she  for  whom  he_had  vainly 
waited  were  well,  and  receiving  an  affirmative  reply,  took  his  de- 
parture with  the  resolve  to  ask  for  her  at  once  should  she  not  be 
present  or  sent  for  upon  the  occasion  of  his  next  visit.  He  shook 
the  rain  from  his  coat,  upon  his  return  home,  with  a  feeling  of  vexa- 
tion at  himself  for  having  emulated  the  expectant  bashfulness  of  a 
boy,  in  not  having  asked  for  her  upon  this  occasion  till  the  very 
delay  had  raised  an  ur.surrnountable  obstacle  ;  and  his  consequent 
dissatisfaction  with  every  member  of  the  f  imily  whom  he  had  sec-n 
remained  unappeased  after  the  usually  soothing  oblation  of  two 
cicrars,  whose  smoke-wreaths  only  hovered  he  avily  around  him  with- 
out stilling  one  irritated  pulsation. 

Gloomily  h?  betook  himself  to  sleep,  and  dejectedly  arose  the  next 
day  to  pursue  the  same  spiritless  round.  Ashamed  to  confess  him- 
self so  much  the  creature  of  circumstances,  yet  utterly  unable  to 
banish  the  melancholy  spirit  which  possessed  him,  he  shunned  tha 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLAES.  177 

Bertrams  and  condemned  himself  to  the  solitude  which  nevertheless 
•weighed  upon  him  dispiritingly,  till,  yielding  to  a  second  tempta- 
tion, he  made  another  visit  to  the  Venard  mansion,  and,  profiting 
by  his  former  lesson,  asked  at  once  for  the  Luly  whom  he  alone  cared 
to  see.  The  servant  hesitated,  then  said  apologetically, 

"  1  beg  your  pardon,  sah,  but  Miss  Leonore  te'l  me,  lour  days  ago, 
she  be  at  home  to  nobody  till  farder  notice." 

Lisle  drew  a  card  from  his  pocket,  wrote  a  few  words  upon  it,  and 
bade  the  servant  hand  it  to  her  and  wait  for  an  answer ;  and  refus- 
ing to  enter  the  parlor,  he  waited  in  the  hall,  resolved  not  to  endure 
another  evening's  martyrdom  in  family  conclave. 

The  alert  waiter  sprang  up  stairs  with  the  card,  knocked  at  Miss 
Wakefield's  door,  and  when,  pale  and  serious,  she  opened  it,  haneled 
her  the  brief  question  written  over  Lisle  Sterling's  signature. 

'•Does  Miss  Wakefield's  prohibition  include  all  friends,  despite 
solemn  compacts  ?  and,  if  so,  for  how  long  is  it  to  continue  in  effect  ?" 

She  walked  once  or  twice  across  the  room,  as  if  in  irresolution , 
and  took  up  a  pencil  and  card,  then  threw  them  down  again,  and 
at  last  said  briefly  to  the  waiting  servant, 

"  Say  to  Mr.  Sterling — yes,  and  till  Sunday  evening.  Nothing  more, 
he  will  understand.  Don't  forget." 

"  No, ma'am.  Miss  Leonore  say — 'yes,  and  till  Sunday  evening  ;' 
and  having  tthus  recited  his  message,  he  ran  down  stairs  repeating 
it  to  himself  parrot-wise,  in  its  to  him  utter  incomprehensibility. 

It  was  sufficiently  intelligible  to  Lisle,  if  not  entirely  satisfactory  ; 
and  receiving  it  with  such  philosophy  as  he  could  summon,  he  slip- 
ped the  welcome  douceur  into  the  servant's  expectant  hand,  and 
turned  away. 

Tired  of  the  very  atmosphere  of  his  silent  home,  yet  in  no  mood 
for  society,  he  resolved  to  go  to  the  theatre  in  true  bachelor  style, 
and  was  soon  seated  quite  ajone  in  the  usually  well  filled  box.  Tho 
house  was  not  half  full,  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  inspiring 
more  worshippers  of  Morphaus  than  devotees  to  Melpomene,  and 
{•lancing  around  to  mark  the  few  familiar  faces  present,  Lisle's  eye 
descended  to  the  pit,  mechanically. 

Abstracted  as  he  was,  two  familiar  figures  forced  themselves  upon 
his  attention,  an  I  he  looked  again.  That  fat,  puffy  face,  with  the 
r  amd,  bullet-shaped  eyes,  and  shock  of  liglit  yellow  hair,  had  writ- 
ten in  every  line  the  name  of  his  old  afniction,thc  fat  boy  Billy;  and 
the  bare-headed  young  woman  beside  him,  with  the  light  colored 
calico  dress  twisted  in  the  waist  till  its  long  point  mounted  guard 


178  THE  HOUSE  BEIIIXD  THE  POPLARS. 

over  one  hip,  could  be  none  other  than  Melissa,  though  the  afore 
time  fringy  braids  of  her  thin  hair  were  now  confided  to  the  care  of 
a  four-toothed  back  comb  which  held  them  in  a  weakly,  discouraged 
twi^t,  no  less  fringy,  with  here  and  there  an  ambitious  strand  doing 
its  best  to  stand  upon  end  independent  of  the  general  frowze. 

"Whether  or  not  in  fulfillment  of  the  maternal  prophecy,  "her  dar- 
lights  had  been  stewed  out  of  her,"  she  certainly  looked  in  the  last 
degree  dejected  and  spiritless,  and  there  was  a  volume  of  eloquent 
history  in  the  very  manner  in  which  Billy  turned  his  shoulder  upon 
her  while  he  sat  with  both  fat  re  1  hands  thrust  deeply  into  his  gr.iy 
pnntaloons  pockets,  his  head  drawn  down  to  the  utter  exclusion 
from  sight  of  anything  at  all  resembling  a  neck,  an-1  a  fold  of  fat 
from  his  triple  chin  spreading  down  upon  his  dingy  vest,  decidedly 
the  worse  for  wear. 

I>egre'.ting  that  they  had  followed  in  the  maternal  wake,  even 
while  resols'ing  anew  to  endure  no  farther  molestation  from  them, 
Lisle  dismissed  them  from  his  thoughts,  and  gradually  becoming 
interested  in  the  play,  f^-lt  his  spirits  revive  correspondingly. 

Determined  that  nothing  should  occur  to  disturb  the  pleasant 
condition  of  mind  in  which  he  found  himself  at  the  close  of  the  per- 
formance, he  went  directly  home  and  to  sleep,  unheeding  the  pat- 
tering rain  that  still  beat  its  tattoo  monotonously.  But  one  busy 
day  intervened  before  the  evening  when  Miss  "NVakefield  had  sig- 
ninVd  that  his  visit  would  be  received;  and,  as  it  drew  near,  he  w;  s 
more  curious  to  know  the  re-ison  for  his  temporary  banishment, 
than  eiger  for  any  chnrm  the  visit  might  contain  in  itself.  It  was 
useless  to  ascribe  it  to  any  affectation,  since  she  was  utterly  free  from 
anything  at  all  resembling  it;  and  satisfied  that  she  was  really 
presen'  under  the  Venards'  roof,  which  he  h:id  at  first  doubted,  he 
repaired  th:  re  at  the  time  appointed,  resolved  to  cl  dm  an  explana- 
tion, which  might  very  possibly  reveal  some  unpleasant  circum- 
stances within  his  power  to  remove,  as  it  might  be  his  duty. 

He  was  shown  at  once  into  the  parlor,  and  M,-s  "Wnkefield  ad- 
vanced to  receive  him.  lie  had  hoped,  and  some  way  fully  ex- 
pected, to  meet  her  al<~>nc,  knowing  as  she  must  that  her  singular 
conduct  demnnde  1  at  least  a  p  <lite  excuse;  but  Miss  Phe!> 
pn-svnr,  with  every  iiviicition  of  intending  to  remain  so,  while 
Charley  dM  not  once  resign  ids  station  at  her  side.  Both  Lisle  and 
Miss  AVakefield  were  too  well-bred  to  di>pl:iy  the  restraint  each  felt, 
and  totally  unconscious  of  the  mental  atmosphere  by  which  she  was 
surrounded,  Miss  Phebe  di-couri>  d  in  her  usual  strain,  quite  mo- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  179 

nopolizing  the  conversation.  Her  usual  absorbing  topic  soon  ban- 
ished all  others,  and  she  asked,  abruptly,  "What  is  a  good  business 
for  a  genteel  young  man,  Mr.  Sterling  ?" 

"Ten  thousand  dollars  a  year  net  proceeds,  according  to  my  esti- 
mation, though  the  never  satisfied  might  demand  more." 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  in  that  sense ;  I  mean  as  an  occupation  in  life." 

"  Being  an  official  on  the  raging  canal.  I  recollect  that  was  my 
first  ambition  in  life.  Say  an  officer  in  the  cavalry  department  of  it ; 
duties  easy,  only  to  follow  the  tow-path." 

"But  that  is  horribly  vulgar;  a  canal  driver!  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  put  such  a  hero  in  my  book ;  I  want  for  him  some  busi- 
ness in  which  he  will  come  in  contact  with  good  society  that  shall 
refine  and  elevate  him ;  for,  being  poor,  he  is  to  be  a  self-made  man." 

•'Oh,  I  see.  Well,  I  should  think  the  profession  of  street  boot- 
blacking  would  be  about  it;  brings  its  professor  into  the  very  closest 
contact  with  the  very  elite  of  business  society,  where  he  may  at  any 
moment  be  elevated  for  an  unlucky  rap  on  a  sensitive  member.  Not 
much  capital  required — only  blacking  and  a  brush,  and  a  pair  of 
willing  elbows." 

"  Of  all  the  hateful,  provoking  specimens  of  masculinity  that  I 
ever  saw  !"  began  the  young  lady  indignantly ;  and  fired  by  a  sud- 
den remembrance,  Master  Charley  exclaimed, 

"  There  you  go  again,  Aunt  Phebe !  and  it  was  only  the  other  day 
grandpa  gave  you  a  good  one  about  your  temper.  He  says  he'll 
give  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  any  man  that  will  marry  and  live  with 
you,  for  he's  tired  out,  and  pa  says — " 

Whatever  revelation  of  paternal  sentiment  might  have  been  made, 
was  prevented  by  the  irate  descent  made  upon  him,  and  his  being 
borne  off  in  a  gale,  with  Mi?s  Phebe  at  the  helm. 

"  Thank  Heaven  for  all  blessings !  I  thought  she'd  never  leave  1" 
ejaculated  Lisle  as  the  door  closed  upon  her  exit ;  and  moving  his 
chair  so  that  he  faced  h;s  companion,  he  said  abruptly, 

"  Now,  Miss  WakefieM,  in  the  name  of  our  compact  I  demand  an 
explanation  of  my  temporary  bandishment.  I  flattered  myself  that 
I  had  found  one  woman  above  the  caprices  of  her  sex ;  yet  one? 
happy  evening  she  enters  into  a  compact  of  friendship  with  me,  and 
having  authorized  my  visits,  upon  the  very  next  occasion  absents 
herself  without  word  or  sign.  Magnanimously  assuming  one-half 
the  blame,  I  call  again,  inquiring  for  her  alone,  and  being  refused, 
resolve  to  avoid  all  chance  of  mistake,  and  so  write,  that  my  sentence 
of  banishment  may  proceed  from  hrr  own  lips  if  no  other  answer  be 


180  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

vouchsafed.  I  receive1  it,  but — marvel  of  marvels — coupled  with  a 
promised  restoration  to  her  grace,  in  time,  which  I  await,  and  am  at 
last  once  more  permitted  to  approach  her,  secure  behind  such  forti- 
fications as  she  can  erect  around  her  from  the  material  of  a  small  boy 
with  capacious  ears,  and  his  attention-absorbing  aunt!  In  the  name 
of  all  that  is  reasonable,  you  owe  me  an  explanation !" 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  she  asked  pensively. 

The  tone,  or  manner  in  which  she  asked  the  question,  jarred  upon 
a  sensitive  nerve,  and  he  replied  bitterly, 

"  It  is  most  unreasonable  that  I  should  '  think  so,'  no  doubt.  I 
should  know,  as  well  as  another,  that  friendship,  however  true  and 
sublime,  is  too  worthless  a  bauble  for  one  to  stoop  to  gather  up  in 
the  rush  of  life !  What  matters  it  though  one  offers  as  a  free  gift  all 
that  he  feels  is  truest  and  best  within  his  soul !  Souls  are  at  best 
but  problematical,  doubtlessly  mere  myths,  and  if  a  man  who  should 
know  better,  goes  into  heroics  over  such  an  offering,  it  is  right 
enough  that  his  altar  should  perish  and  bury  all  beneath  its  ruins  ! 
I  have  not  often  thus  egotistically  erred,  Miss  Wakefield,  nor  shall  I 
soon  again." 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Sterling ;  for  Heaven's  sake,  stop  !  You  are  unjust 
and  ungenerous!" 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  Well,  then  I  obey.  But  at  least,  you 
owe  me  frankness.  Whatever  may  be  the  unwelcome  truth,  you 
will  never  know  any  one  who  will  face  it  so  unshrinkingly.  I  will 
speak  it  for  you.  You  think  that  you  entered  into  our  league  with- 
out due  deliberation  ;  that  in  the  sympathy  of  the  moment,  you  ad- 
mitted to  a  too  intimate  relationship  one  of  whom  you  know  too 
little — one  who  seems  to  you,  in  cooler  moments,  cynical,  if  not 
wholly  given  over  to  all  unamiable  heresies.  I  do  confess  that  I  am 
unfortunate  in  the  phraseolgy  which  seems  to  indicate  my  nal 
character  ;  and  it  was  this  very  knowledge  that  gave  me  so  sincere 
a  pleasure  in  our  friendship,  since  I,  too,  sometimes  dream  of  one 
kindred  spirit  that  will  not  always  misunderstand  and  judge  I  ho 
inner  spirit  by  the  surface  indications.  I  am  not  all  harsh  and  colil, 
though  God  only  knows  how  I  have  escaped  becoming  so.  I  know 
that  1  have  a  heart  as  true  and  generous  as  ever  beat,  and  that  one 
w!>A  bdicvcii  in  and  relied  upon  it  would  find  it  faithful  unto  cloath. 
L'.'onore  Wakefield,  you  are  throwing  away  a  better,  truer  friend 
than  you  ever  had  or  will  have  in  this  selfish  world!" 

"  No,  uo,  you  arc  wrong,  all  wrong  !  It  is  not  yon  whom  I  baa* 
ish  from  me,  but  myself  whom  I  would — if  I  could — withdraw  from 


THE   HOUSE    BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  181 

you.  Yon  do  not  know,  you  never  can  know,  what  your  friendship 
is  to  me  ;  and  if  I  voluntarily  resign  it,  it  is  the  most  unselfish  act 
of  my  life.  What  your  regard  would  be  to  me,  mine  never  could  be 
to  you,  and  the  more  sincere  you  were,  the  more  you  would  suffer. 
My  miserable  life  casts  its  shadow  upon  all  who  care  for  me,  and  I 
have  no  right  or  with  to  suffer  it  to  lull  upon  you  of  all  the  world- 
You  I  would  preserve  from  it ;  and  from  the  world,  I  have  no  right 
to  expect  anything." 

"  Why  no  right  ?" 

"  Because  I  cannot — or,  if  you  choose — will  not  accept  it.  The 
world  is  one's  very  good  friend,  when  fortune  smiles  ;  one's  phari- 
saicul  exhorter  under  temporary  affliction,  but  one's  tormentor  when 
it  fancies  itself  entitled  to  explanations  and  apologies.  If  I  owe  it 
nothing,  I  shall  never  feel  humbled  at  any  inability  to  pay." 

i(  You  speak  in  enigmas,  Miss  Wakefield.  Pardon  me  if  I  ask  how 
my  own  private  regards  are  linked  with  the  caprices  and  self-inter- 
cs's  of  the  world  at  large.  Will  you  make  a  personal  application  of 
your  remarks,  since  I  confess  that  I  have  neither  consideration  nor 
i  espect  for  the  code  of  the  world  in  general." 

"  Yes.  I  mean  that  one  person  has  no  right  to  accept  the  tender 
regard  of  another  except  in  an  equal  spirit  of  confidence  and  frank- 
ness. I  will  accept  nothing  under  false  pretences,  and  I  tell  you 
again,  that  ours  would  be  a  compact  in  which  you  had  everything 
to  bestow  and  nothing  to  receive.  Even  as  my  most  cherished 
friend  I  could  not  give  you  that  confidence  to  which  the  name 
would  entitle  you,  and  you  would,  mentally,  if  not  audibly,  taunt 
me  with  having  given  you  only  the  shadow  where  you  had  a  right 
lo  expect  the  substance/' 

"  And  you  really  believe  that  my  friendship  might  become  a 
thraldom  from  which  you  would  pine  to  escape ;  a  source  of  annoy- 
ance unbearable  ?  Oh  Leonore  Wakefield  !'* 

"Yes,  though  it  is  too  harshly  worded.  I  tell  you  there  is  inter- 
woven with  my  very  life  a  humiliating  secret  with  which  I  will  suf- 
fer no  one  to  become  acquainted  while  I  have  power  to  prevent  it. 
It  is  not  a  tale  of  crime,  not  a  story  of  horror  to  make  young  eyes 
dilate  with  fear;  better  could  I  tell  it  if  it  were,  since  there  are 
tilings  too  humiliating  to  speak  of  one's  self!  This  much  I  confess. 
to  you  ;  more  I  never  can." 

"  Then,  Leonore,  let  me  tell  you  that  because  I  knew  something  of 
this,  I  first  felt  that  my  friendship  mi'^ht  be  a  not  unwelcome  offering. 
I  know  that  you  need  friends  who  will  naver  doubt  nor  question  you, 


182  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  1H3   TOPL.'.  V.3. 

and  were  I  not  assured  that  such  a  friendship  I  can  offer  you,  I  never 
should  have  breathed  it,  since  I  am  not  prone  to  make  such  offering?. 
Had  I  the  power,  as  I  have  the  wish  to  shield  and  protect  you,  I 
should  not  for  on  -  moment  admit  your  right  to  cast  mo  off;  but  do 
not,  in  the  name  of  justice,  dread  me  as  a  persecutor." 

"What,  and  how  much,  do  you  know  of  me  V 

"Too  little  to  be  worth  repeating,  merely  what  is  known  to  a  fow 
in  your  immediate  circle ;  but  I,  like  them,  know  that  whatever  may- 
be the  blight  upon  your  life,  it  is  linked  with  no  unworthincss  in 
you,  and  that  however  inexplicable  to  others  your  conduct  may  f  omc- 
times  appear,  it  springs  from  some  all-sufficient  reason  of  which  you 
alone  should  be  the  ju'lge.  Do  you  still  distrust  and  reject  me? 
"What  can  I  say  more  than  that  I  believe  in  you  implicity,  t  mt  I  e?- 
teem  you  above  all  the  women  I  have  ever  met,  and  that,  come  what 
may,  I  will  never  fail  you  if  you  once  honor  me  with  your  friend- 
ship. Command  me  in  all  things.  I  will  obey  you  blindly  if  thus  I 
ain  permitted  to  serve  you  !" 

He  extended  his  hand  toward  her  in  earnest  of  his  proffer.  She 
clasped  it  in  both  her  own,  and  bent  her  forehead  upon  it  to  conceal 
the  tears  that  filled  her  eyes  under  his  generosity  and  earnestness, 
and  if,  as  she  had  said,  lie  of  all  others  should  not  be  admitted  to  tho 
companionship  he  asked,  she  was  powerless  to  refuse  him  longer. 
The  barrier  she  had  interp  sed  between  them  w:is  broken  down  by 
the  deep  feeling  his  words  aroused,  and  Lisle  felt  that  this  new  com. 
pact  was  thus  sealed  forever. 

Once  having  yielded,  whether  in  accordance  with,  or  against  her 
own  judgment,  Miss  Wakefield  affected  no  reserve ;  claimed  his 
services  whenever  she  found  them  convenient,  received  him  with  a 
frankness  and  cordiality  of  manner  at  which  others  marvelled 
silently  even  while  they  rejoiced,  and  rarely  refused  to  join  in  any 
amusement  of  which  he  was  the  projector.  She  brightened  into  new 
life  and  animation  under  this  change  in  her  life,  and  her  former 
pensiveness  gave  place  to  a  piquancy  and  sparkling  vivs  city  of 
manner  of  which  she  herself  seemed  quite  unconscious,  as  well  as 
of  the  surprise  it  awakened  in  those  around  her  to  whom  she  had 
heretofore  seemed  a  cold,  incomprehensible  being,  in  whom  every 
natural  impulse  had  been  prematurely  strangled  to  death.  If  friends 
bring  happiness,  happiness  certainly  brings  apparent  friends ;  and 
many  who  before  had  indifferently  pronounced  her  "  a  splendid 
woman,"  now  discovered  her  to  be  a  very  attraciive  one.  Lisle  had 
given  her  his  friendship  and  vowed  himself  to  her  service  in  a  spirit 


THE  HOUSE   BEIIIXD   TUB   POPLARS.  183 

of  pure  disinterestedness ;  but  lie  soon,  discovered  that  lie  was  the 
one  chiefly  benefited,  since  her  presence  supplied  the  attraction 
heretofore  lacking  in  his  social  life,  and  added  a  zest  to  each  arnu^e- 
mcnt  in  which  she  particip  ited.  It  might  have  been  but  a  just  re- 
ward ;  but  he  felt  that  it  made  him  a  debtor  where  he  had  aspired  to 
something  nobler,  and  that  he  admired  where  he  had  only  wished  10 
protect. 

Meanwhile,  the  visit  of  Mr.  Venarcl  and  Miss  Phebe,  extended 
lar  beyond  the  original  intention,  drew  to  a  close,  and  Miss  Phel  e 
packed  up  her  still  unfinished  manuscript,  with  few  thanks  for  th  : 
many  suggestions  with  which  Lisle  had  favored  her,  though  sh : 
made  a  visible  effort  to  leave  in  pe  ice,  which  included  even  him. 

"You  have  be,  n  as  provoking  as  po-sible,  you  know  you  have!'' 
she  asserted,  in  extenuation  of  her  nvmy  outbreaks  upon  him  ;  "  but 
I  want  you  to  understand  that'/am  magnanimous  enough  to  be  for- 
giving. When  I  become  a  famous  authoress,  you'll  wish  you  had 
helped  me  when  you  might  have  done  so  as  well  as  not ;  but  I  shall 
send  you  a  copy  of  my  book,  to  let  you  see  that  I  succeeded  with- 
out you.  I  suppose  you  will  be  married  by  that  time ;  and  I'm  sure 
I  wish  you  all  happiness.  Miss  Waketield  isn't  such  a  frump  as  I 
used  to  think  her,  after  all ;  and  though  she  hasn't  as  much  money 
as  I  have — or  shall  have,  it's  all  the  same — I  suppose  she  will  make 
you  just  as  good  a  wife." 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken  in  supposing  that  I  am  matrimonia'ly 
inclined,  nor  have  I  the  least  idea  that  Miss  Wakefield  would  many 
me  if  I  asked  her  to  do  so,  which,  thank  Hearen,  I  am  too  sincerely 
her  friend  to  be  guilty  of." 

"  Nonsense  !  Everybody  knows  how  such  friendships  end.  If  a 
young  gentleman  were  to  ask  me  to  be  his  friend,  I'd  say  yes,  or  no, 
at  oiiee,  feeling  that  I  was  answering  the  real  question  under  cover  ; 
nothing  more  or  less.  Talk  about  Miss  Wakerield  not  marrying 
you;  she'd  doit  quickly  enough,  I  know.  Every  woman  loves  to 
make  a  good  match;  and  much  as  she  is  inclined  to  '  queen  it ' 
over  ordinary  mortals,  she  doesn't  try  it  over  you.  I  wish  you  would 
tul  of  you  come  up  to  Niagara  next  summer.  I'm  going  to  stay 
there  all  summer,  and  it  will  be  strange  enough  if  my  fifty  thousan  I 
dollars  don't  help  me  to  a  nice  husband  !  I  wish  I'd  some  one  there 
to  tell  people  I'm  to  have  that  amount.  It  doesn't  sound  well  from 
one's  sol*." 

!    "Thank  you;  but  if  I  can't  serve  you  in  that  way,  just  put  np 
some  posters,  which  will  do  as  well.     I've  no  doubt  you  will  be  sue* 


184  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   TIIE   POPLARS. 

cessful,  for  there  are  more  men  in  this  age  who  want  money  even 
with  a  wile,  than  those  who  want  a  wife  without  money." 

'•Do  you  really  think  so?  Well,  that's  encouraging,  anyway, 
thank  you ;  so  ju-t  try  and  forgive  my  sometimes  rather  vigorous 
expressions  of  sentiment  towards  you,  won't  you  ?" 

"  With  all  my  heart,  s-ince  I  always  enjoyed  the  blessed  conscious- 
ness tk;it  they  were  deserved  ;  but  Miss  Phebe,  take  my  advice  and 
novcr  allow  yourself  to  be  provoked  by  any  man  till  you  are  fairly] 
married  to  him.  Natural  exhibitions  of  temper  are  getting  to  be  a. 
perfect  drug  in  tlie  matrimonial  market." 

"  '  Matrimonial  market !' " 

"  Certainly.  Doesn't  every  young  lady  take  herself  to  market 
just  as  unmistakably  as  those  old  women  you  can  see  any  morning 
driving  their  snub-nosed  horses  into  town,  take  their  loads  of  veg- 
etables ?  The  only  difference  lies  iu  their  wares,  and  in  the  style 
of  vehicle.  Go  to  market  with  a  sweet  temper,  and  some  money, 
and  you'll  be  bargained  for  at  once.  Let  me  know  what  price  you 
bring;  and  good-bye,"  and  they  parted  with  more  good  will  than 
might  have  been  anticipated  from  their  many  skirmishes. 


Occasional  letters  from  old  Mr.  Sterling  kept  Lisle  informed  of 
(he  fetv  changes  taking  place  in  his  native  town;  but  as  "  postage 
came  very  dear,"  according  to  the  old  man's  complaint,  these  un- 
scholarly,  but  kindly  written  epi~tles,  appeared  only  at  long  inter- 
vals, always  ending  in  a  sorb  of  addeua  written  in  Mrs.  Sterling's 
cramped  and  wiry-looking  chirography,  consisting  of  that  curious 
j  irgon  of  parrot-phrased  piety  and  exhortation  so  common  in  the 
messages  of  the  old  to  the  young,  and  from  which  Lisle  turned  with 
a  thrill  of  disgust.  This  woman,  who  had  never  addivssed  him  one 
word  of  real  kindness,  never  bestowed  any  attention  upon  his  "per- 
ishable body,"  except  in  the  way  of  blows  and  puni-hmcnts,  now 
as-ured  him  that  he  had  been  "  the  child  of  many  prayers  and  sac- 
rifices," and  exhorted  him  till  it  seemed  as  if  she  must  fancy  that 
the  sins  of  the  parent  would  be  visited  upon  the  child,  in  accord- 
since  with  the  old  ortho  iox  creed — not  in  this  world  alone  but  in 
the  one  to  come.  Lisle  felt  that  in  this  world  lie  had  already  ex- 
pert need  the  curse,  and  had  she  meant  it  in  this  sens?,  he  would 
have  received  it  as  it  merited.  Mr.  Sterling  wrote  that  her  health 
seemed  failing,  and  that  she  was  "flighty  like  in  h:  r  mind,  often 
talking  strange  and  onaccountable ;"  andLisl)  shrunk  Uh  a,  real 
dread  from  what  she  might  thus  at  any  hour  roveal.  7  shameful 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  '  185 

secret  concealed  from  all  suspicion  for  so  many  years,  might  even 
yet  escape  her,  and  hunt  him  to  his  grave  with  that  unjust  and  cruel 
stigma  which  attaches  to  such  unfortunates  as  he  !  The  half-laid 
shadows  of  the  past  sprang  into  life  again  under  the  sudden  fe  ir, 
and  his  life  seemed  a  nightmare  of  evil  forebodings  never  to  be 
stilled. 

He  paced  the  floor  in  bitterness  of  soul  as  he  thought  of  the 
wretched  past,  the  uncertain  present.  Was  his  whole  life  to  be  but 
one  long  curse  for  the  sins  of  another  ?  Could  he  have  felt  that  he 
was  the  offspring  of  an  ill-starred  love,  pity  for  his  mother's  suffer- 
ings would  have  deadened  the  sting  of  his  own ;  but  too  well  he 
knew  that  selfish  calculation  stood  sponsor  at  his  birth,  and  that 
both  he  and  his  dead  father  had  been  hated  as  only  a  baffled,  un- 
principled woman  can  hate — with  a  malice  whose  very  pettiness 
rendered  it  the  more  fiendish  !  There  was  not  one  redeeming  fea- 
ture iu  the  wholo  miserable  story,  to  render  it  pardonable  ! 

Supposing  that  all  should  be  reavealed  by  her  own  lips,  would  it 
be  credited  ?  Here  at  least  was  one  foundation  upon  which  to  build 
a  hope.  Doctor  Kelley's  venerated  name  might  prove  invulnerable 
against  a  half-demented  old  woman's  babbling  ;  and  she  herself  had 
been  so  well  respected,  that  her  own  words  might  not  be  taken  in 
evidence  against  herself.  It  v»s  a  hope  that  had  never  dawned 
upon  his  mind  before,  and  Lisle  clung  to  it  till  it  gained  sufficient 
force  to  banish  the  dread  that  had  seized  upon  him  with  renewed 
vitality. 

At  all  events,  if  worse  came  to  worst,  the  world  was  large.  Should 
a  too  well  founded  rumor  reach  him  here,  he  could  leave,  and  no 
one  would  suffer  but  himself.  The  hope  that  the  evil  might  pass  by 
him,  had  already  made  him  strong  to  face  its  possible  coming  ;  and 
banishing  the  shadows  from  his  mind,  he  burned  the  disturbing 
letter,  and  resolved  no  more  to  endure  the  pains  of  apprehension, 
often  more  severe  than  any  which  the  reality  erer  inflicts. 


186  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

LISLE  had  left  the  office  earlier  than  usual  one  day,  resolving  to 
dine  early,  and  spend  a  long  social  evening  with  the  Venard?,  at 
whose  house  be  was  now  a  daily  visitor  upon  one  pretence  or  an- 
other. Having  made  known  his  wish  to  M;  s.  Perkins,  whom  he  in- 
attentively observed  to  be  in  some  evident  trouble,  as  she  usually  wai 
since  her  marriage  with  the  unprofitable  Joe,  be  stayed  for  no  ex- 
planations regarding  the  present  calamity  und.r  which  she  was 
laboring,  but  went  at  once  to  bis  room  to  prepare  for  dinner.  Su  1- 
denly  over-riding  his  soft  whistling  as  he  proceeded  with  his  toilet, 
he  hcurd  Mrs.  Bertram's  voice  impatiently  calling  to  him  from  the 
stair  ase. 

"  "What  will  your  ladyship  ?"  he  asked  opening  the  door,  :hrough 
who^e  crack  the  sound  of  an  industrFous  brush  reached  her  ears. 

"  Do  come  down,  Sterling.  Be  quick ;  I've  something  to  tell 
you." 

"I  shall  be  at  your  service  in  three  seconds,  ma'am,  if  you  can 
survive  that  length  of  time  with  something  on  your  mind." 

It  proved  a  long  three  seconds,  and  he  saw  that  she  thought  so, 
when  at  last  he  descended  to  the  parlor  which  she  was  excitedly 
pacing  to  and  fro. 

"What  is  it,  Mrs.  Bertram?  has  cook  run  away  with  the  spoons, 
or  coachee  hitched  the  near  horse  on  the  off  side,  or — " 

"Do  hush!  I  tell  you  it  is  no  laughing  matter!  Oh,  it  is  too 
bad,  just  as  we  were  all  so  hopeful  it  might  not  happen  again !  The- 
truth  is—" 

"  Bless  us,  there  are  murdered  chickens  in  the  last  purchase  of 
'  new  laid  eggs  !'  I  was  afraid  of  it,  so  late  in  the  spring  !  Cruel  !*' 

"  Sterling,  Leonore  "Wakefk-ld  is  mis?ing  !" 

"Since  when  is  she  astray  or  stolen?1' 

"  How  can  you  laugh  ?  Since  last  night,  I  suppose,  though  she 
was  not  missed  till  this  morning.  Not  appearing  at  breakfast,  a 
servant  was  sent  to  her  door,  and  receiving  no  answer,  opened  it. 


THE   HOUSE    BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  187 

The  room  was  vacant,  the  bed  had  not  been  Decupled  through  the 
night ;  in  short,  she  was  gone,  without  a  word  left  for  any  one,  unless 
you  were  so  favored,  which  your  manner  leads  me  to  believe." 

"No.  This  is  the  first  intimation  I  have  received  that  Miss 
Wakefield  lias  seen  fit  to  act  upon  her  own  discretion,  without  sub- 
mitting the  affair  to  a  grand  jury  of  her  friends  and  acquaintance ! 
Unexampled  temerity  !  Shocking  manifestation  of  independence  !" 

"But  you  must  know  such  conduct  has  a  very  mysterious  ap- 
pearance !" 

11  Were  I  to  leave  upon  equally  brief — that  is  to  say,  no  notice — 
would  you  fear  my  little  instinct  was  to  be  eternally  lost,  in  conse- 
quence ?" 

"  But  you  are  a  man.  The  case  would  be  entirely  different.  She 
will  be  talked  about,  and  that  not  gently." 

"  And  is  it  so  very  awful  to  be  '  talked  about  ?'  I  thought  ladies 
liked  it,  since  they  one  and  all  aim  at  making  a  sensation.  I  never 
once  dreamed  that '  modest  violet '  was  their  role  !" 

"  You  might  have  been  married  for  years,  by  the  way  you  thrust 
and  parry  with  such  spiteful  weapons ;  yet  had  you  a  wife,  your  very 
liberal  creed  for  women  would  soon  come  down  to  the  every  day 
code,  and  you  too,  would  cry  'a  woman's  reputation  is  her  life!"' 
The  world  fancies  itself  entitled  to  an  explanation  of  every  step  a 
woman  takes ;  and  to  ignore  that  claim,  false  as  it  may  be,  is  to 
incur  its  frowns  and  severest  censure.  At  most  any  other  time  this 
freak  of  hers  might  be  concealed  by  a  little  polite  fibbing,  &c. ;  but 
Em's  cards  are  already  half  out  for  Wednesday  evening's  social,  and 
no  amount  of  conscience  racking  could  cover  her  non-appearance." 

"  Do,  with  your  usual  and  very  lovely  frankness,  confess  that  your 
deep  regard  for  public  opinion  upon  this  momentous  occasion  is 
much  intensified  by  wounded  amour  propre,  and  that  both  you  and 
Mrs.  Venard  think  you  should  have  been  taken  into  Miss  Wakefield's 
confidence,  however  uncommunicative  she  chose  to  be  towards 
others." 

"  Something  like  it  I  do  confess,  though  not  in  so  mean  a  spirit. 
1  said  that  she  might  have  mentioned  to  one  of  us  that  she  was  go- 
ing away  for  as  long  a  time  as  she  purposed,  that  we  might  be  en- 
abled to  say  when  she  was  to  return,  in  case  we  were  questioned 
with  politely  phrased  curiosity;  and  Em  replied  'nonsense;  we'll 
tell  them,  at  once,  that  it  is  nobody's  business,' — which  I've  no  doubt 
she  would,  as  she  is  one  of  those  peculiar  few  who  can  say  such  things 
and  feel  the  better  for  it.1' 


188  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPI.ARS. 

"  Bare  type  of  womanhood  !    But  what,  then,  was  her  qualifying 


"  Of  course  there  was  one,  sneerer  ;  but  it  was  a  more  charitable 
one  than  you  would  ever  imagine.  Em  said  she  felt  sure  that  Miss 
Wakefiekl  has  magnified  some  unpleasant  trifle  into  a  real  evil  that 
will  kill  her  if  she  goes  on  in  this  way  ;  but  if  there  is  any  real 
necessity  for  her  presence  anywhere,  she  ought,  injustice  to  herself 
and  her  friends,  and  to  you,  to  surround  herself  with  such  defences 
as  she  can  by  letting  it  seem  that  she  makes  no  effort  at  secrecy.  Em 
has  an  idea  that  one  who  could  surprise  Miss  Wakefield  by  a  knowl- 
edge of  her  secret,  would  prove  an  invaluable  friend  to  her,  as  she 
might  gladly  avail  herself  of  some  assistance  not  involving  any  ex- 
planations upon  her  part  ;  and  I  fancy  she  thinks  she  has  found  some 
clue  to  it,  already." 

"  Of  all  varieties  of  so  called  friendship,  officious  friendship  is  the 
least  endurable  !  As  though  any  one  were  ever  gratified  by  another's 
discove*y  of  what  one  strove  to  conceal  !  I  gave  Mi  s.  Venard  credit 
for  better  judgment,  and  I  shall  tell  her  so.  No  man  would  suffer 
such  interference  with  his  own  private  affairs,  and  would  be  very- 
liable  to  administer  a  good  dose  of  kicks  to  whoever  thus  merited 
it.  I  would  like  to  know  who  fiist  discovered  that  men  and  women 
were  so  differently  constituted  that  what  is  unbearable  by  the  one 
should  be  rather  agreeable  t  j  the  other  !  It  is  not  beautifully  con- 
sistent with  the  creed  that  women  are  delicate  and  sensitive  in  the 
proportion  of  six  to  one.  All  thanks  to  a  merciful  Creator  who 
made  me  not  a  woman  '" 

"  Lisle  Sterling,  you  talk  beautifully  now.  But  tell  me  ;  if  Leo- 
nore  Wakefield  were  your  wife,  what  would  you  do  under  circum- 
stances like  the  present." 

"  Thrash  into  his  senses  any  man  who  dared  to  look  his  commiser- 
ation for  me,  or  his  curiosity  relative  to  her." 

"  Then  marry  her  and  do  so.  There  will  be  ample  opportunity, 
if  she  cannot  be  prevailed  upon  to  change  such  mysterious  deport- 
ment. What  can  be  answered  when  she  is  missed  and  inquired  for 
Wednesday  evening  ?" 

"Any  answer  will  do  if  it  be  promptly  given.  Hesitate,  and  you 
kill  her.  Go  to  Mrs.  Yenard  and  agree  upon  something  —  no  matter 
what  —  and  then  teil  it  boldly.  Should  she  return  before  then,  as  she 
very  probably  will,  you  will  be  spared  one  stretch  of  conscience, 
•which  it  is  to  be  hoped  will  be  put  down  to  your  credit  when  your 
Great  Book  account  is  balanced." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS.  189 

"  How  quickly  your  mind  does  work  !  Why,  of  course  the  first 
thing  Em  and  I  decided  upon,  was  a  story  to  fit  the  necessity.  You 
stop  just  where  we  began." 

"  Very  naturally.  The  first  thing  a  woman  exclaims,  is  '  what 
Avill  people  say  !'  while  every  man  knows  that  the  world  lias  many 
topics  of  more  engrossing  interest  than  some  poor  woman's  merits 
and  demerits.  Let  me  assure  you  that  the  great  world  has  some- 
thing to  do  besides  to  wait  on  a  corner  with  its  hands  in  if  s  pockets, 
hazarding  conjectures  on  the  passers-by.  'Jog  along,  keep  moving,' 
is  the  real  '  psalm  of  life  ;'  and  when  many  a  rascal  goes  unwhipped 
because  justice  is  too  busy  to  attend  to  him,  the  feminine  fraternity 
have  little  to  fear  outside  their  own  class  and  clique.  Pity  they 
don't  know  it !" 

"  I  insist  that  three-quarters  of  all  the  gossip  is  kept  alive  by  your 
LCX." 

"  Who  is  in  the  advance,  goading  us  on  with  whip  and  spur  ? 
Wives  and  sisters,  and,  worse  yet  than  they — mothers !  Forever 
comes  the  feminine  taunt,  '  suppose  it  were  me !  Your  sympathy  is 
all  for  others,'  till  a  man  is  frantic  enough  to  cry  out  anything  de- 
sired of  him.  You  are  nearer  perfection  than  most  of  your  sex ;  yefc 
you  won't  deny  that  you  lay  awake  nights  to  think  up  new  persecu- 
tions for  that  dashing  Mrs.  Poineroy,  of  whom  you  were  so  jealous 
last  winter." 

"  '  Jealous  !"  No  I  wasn't !  but  no  woman  is  delighted  to  see  an. 
other  practising  humbug  over  her  husband.  Mrs.  Pomeroy,  having 
been  relieved  of  her  own  husband  by  a  wisely  discriminating  provi- 
dence, had  no  other  occupation  than  making  raids  upon  other  peo- 
ple's, which  she  did  in  accordance  with  a  woman's  tactics,  looking 
out  the  weak  points  in  the  matrimonial  constitution,  and  then  as- 
suming to  be  so  perfect  just  where  the  wife  fails  !  Women  read  that 
trick  in  each  other  quickly  enough,  and  it  doesn't  tend  to  promote 
sisterly  love.  Bertram  is  snubby  enough  around  home,  you  know  ; 
yet  he  played  the  gallant  to  that  woman  all  winter  long,  in  a  manner 
that  would  have  made  him  a  household  delight,  had  lie  let  his  light 
so  shine  ;  and  she  seemed  to  know  it  all,  as  well  as  I  could  tell  her  I 
£  couldn't  endure  her — that's  the  whole  of  it." 

Lisle  laughed  as  he  applauded  her  eloquence ;  and  as  the  percep- 
tion dawned  upon  her  that  he  had  called  out  her  tirade  for  his  own 
amusement,  she  colored,  but  joined  in  the  laugh  as  she  said  with  up- 
lifted finger,  < 
"  Wait  till  you  catch  some  masculine  practising  his  fascinations 


190  TUE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLARS. 

against  your  peace  of  mind !  You'll  find  tlicn,  that  it  is  an  inspiring 
topic.  I'm  going  home  now ;  your  dinner  is  ready,  and  the  Infant's 
face  is  one  red  catalogue  of  domestic  calamity.  Adi"U." 

And  Mrs.  Bertram  returned  home  considerably  relieved  in  her 
own  mind  by  the  equanimity  with  which  Lisle  had  received  her 
startling  announcement,  while  he,  far  more  pained  and  surprised 
than  he  had  allowed  himself  to  appear,  went  mechanically  out  to 
dinner,  hi  a  fit  of  abstraction  through  which  he  noted  nothing 
[around  him  till  Mrs.  Perkins'  voice  arrested  his  steps  as  he  was 
leaving  the  room. 

"If  you  plea?e,  Mr.  Sterling,  being  a;  I'm  thit  troubled  in  my 
mind  as  is  dbcoinfor  table  and  hard  to  be  borne,  would  you  be  kind 
enough  to  a.lvise  a  lone  woman  which  has  no  one  else  to  depend 
on  1  Being  as  I've  taken  a  partner  which  is  unprofitable  to  him- 
self, which  likewise  he  is  to  me,  please  Go-1 ;  which  his  advice  is 
rather  a  damage  than  anything  better  to  them  which  take  it,  I 
make  so  bold  as  to  trouble  you.  Which  the  fact  is,  Melissy  is  come 
a  hankering  arouud  me,  and  Billy  likewise,  a  threatening  to  take  to 
no  end  of  evil  ways  if  something  is  not  done  to  encourage  them  ; 
which  it's  scant  enough  of  encouragement  I  have  to  offer  to  anybody, 
being  that  I'm  that  put  to  it  in  my  own  mind,  what  with  an  un- 
profitable partner  and  all !'' 

'•  Where  are  they,  and  what  doing  1     Has  Bill  any  work  V 

"  Nothing  more  than  of  stuffing  himself,  which  it  is  likely  even 
that  will  soon  see  an  end  for  lack  of  supplies,  being  as  the'r  money  is 
all  run  out,  and  the  landlord  of  the  Dolphin — which  it  is  there  they 
stop — has  pounced  down  on  their  luggage  and  given  them  notice  to 
quit;  and  at  this  blessed  minute  Melissy  i-s  a-crying  of  herself  out  on 
the  back  gallery  and  begging  you'll  give  her  a  word  of  advice,  sir." 

"  I  made  her  such  a  donation  somj3  time  ago.  But  what  do  the 
miserable  couple  want  1  Work  V 

"  Strange  if  they  do.  I  never  knew  either  of  them  to  have  such 
a  hankering." 

"  Well;  to  live  they  must  work.  I  will  have  neither  of  them 
around  me,  but  I  will  secure  employment  for  Bill  once  more,  for 
your  comfort,  after  which  he  must  procee-1  upon  his  own  responsi- 
bility, and  I  advise  you  to  let  him  and  Joseph  see  as  little  of  each 
other  as  possible.  You  will  pardon  me  for  saying  that  I  fear  Joseph 
is  not  incorruptible." 

Mrs.  Perkins  leant  back  in  her  chair  and  fanned  herself  excitedly, 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIXD  THE   POPLAIIS.  191 

for  a  moment,  while  making  an  effort  to  restrain  her  complaint, 
which  at  last  escaped  her,  despite  the  struggle. 

"  He's  vexatious  indeed,  is  Joseph  !  What  with  filching  every- 
thing he  can  touch  finger  to,  what  with  never  making  his  accounts 
come  straight  if  he  but  buy  a  picayune's  worth — which  I  can't  send 
him  to  buy  a  paper  of  needles  but  he  gets  it  divided  so  as  he  can 
make  a  speculation  of  half  the  cost,  an  1  likewise  pins  the  same — 
and  what  with  being  beknownst  to  his  hugging  the  cook  behind 
the  pantry  door,  I'm  a  sorrowful  and  beworried  woman!  Drew 
wasn't  an  angel  by  any  manner  of  means,  which  I  told  him  maybo 
oftener  than  was  just  good  for  him — but  his  very  badnesses  were  far 
better  than  Joseph's  virtues,  which  if  he  has  any  I  don't  know  it, 
but  quite  to  the  contrairywise.  It's  a  grievous  dose  of  matermony 
to  come  upon  a  respectable  woman  as  has  done  her  duty  so  many 
years  to  them  as  is  dead  and  them  as  is  likewise  living  !" 

"  I  am  seriously  of  the  opinion,  Mrs.  Perkins,  that  most  people 
find  matrimony  a  prefty  ;  grievous  dose,'  whether  or  not  they  con- 
fess it,  and  the  wonder  is  that  the  warning  is  not  more  effectual!  I 
see  no  way  in  which  I  can  afford  you  any  relief,  unless  indeed  I  turn, 
off  cook  and  supply  her  place  with  an  ugly  old  woman,  or  a  mascu- 
line." 

"  Which  I  shall  take  it  very  kind  of  you,  and  thank  you  too.'' 
L14o  smiled  his  comment,  as  Joseph  Perkins'  ungainly  figure  rose 
mentally  before  him,  but  sincerely  compassionating  his  Jaithful 
housekeeper's  troubles,  he  gave  her  money  to  redeem  the  effects 
seized  upon  by  the  young  people's  landlord,  renewing  his  promise 
to  secure  employment  for  Bill,  and  if  possible  for  Melissa,  and  gave 
the  rather  pretty  cook  warning  at  once.  The  little  incident  had 
temporarily  banished  his  own  anxiety;  but  it  returned  with  renewed 
force  as  he  went  out  for  the  first  moment  alone  tincd  the  startling 
intelligence  had  been  given  him.  Perfectly  as  he  was  aware  of  these 
events  in  Leouore  Wakefield's  life,  frankly  as  she  had  warned  him 
that  she  could  not  explain  her  conduct  to  him  nor  to  anyone,  this 
singular  deportment  exercised  upon  him  all  the  effect  of  an  un- 
pleasant surprise ;  and,  quite  losing  the  social  enthusiasm  which 
had  led  him  to  plan  the  evening's  entertainment,  he  betook  himself' 
to  the  upper  gallery  in  a  most  unenviable  stato  of  mind. 

The  next  dny  passed  without  any  intelligence  ol  the  missing  one; 
and  culling  upon  the  Venards  in  the  evening  Lisle  found  them  in  a 
state  of  mingled  anxiety  and  vexation,  which  Mrs.  Venard  made  no 
effort  to  conceal  from  him,  protesting  that  at  any  other  time  it  would 


192  THE   HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

have  been  no  one's  business,  nor  should  she  for  one  monvnt  havo 
considered  it  hers ;  but  the  next  evening  was  the  one  appointed  for 
her  grand  party,  and  committed  by  the  invitations  issued  before 
Leonore's  departure,  she  could  by  no  possibility  postpone  it,  nor  re- 
sent the  inquiries  so  natural  under  the  circumstances.  "  Leonore 
would  become  the  object  of  remark  among  all  their  circle,  and  those 
detestable  Wheelers  would  triumph  over  her  so  provokingly  !  They 
had  played  the  Pharisee  toward  the  poor  child  for  much  less  than 
this,  since  they  were  in  no  condition  to  suffer  annoyance  upon  her 
account,  and  at  that  time  she  was  too  little  known  to  become  the 
subject  of  much  remark  under  any  circumstances.  Now  it  was  very 
different,1'  Mrs.  Yenard  declared;  "nor  could  she  imagine  how  Miss 
Wakefield's  affairs  could  in  any  way  be  connected  with  such  a  vaga- 
bond." 

"What  vagabond?"  Lisle  asked. 

"  Oh,  don't  you  know  about  it  ?  Then  I  may  as  well  tell  the  whole 
story,  since  you  are  her  friend  no  less  than  we.  It  was  during  the 
twilight,  Monday  evening,  when  we  were  all  sauntering  around  the 
yard,  that,  speaking  to  Miss  Wakefleld  under  the  impression  that 
she  was  close  beside  me,  and  receiving  no  reply,  I  turned  to  look 
for  her.  She  could  not  long  have  left  me;  for  I  saw  her  just  as  she 
reached  the  gate  where  a  letter  was  handed  her  which  she  slipped 
hastily  into  her  pocket,  not  without  glancing  over  her  shoulder  to 
see  if  she  were  observed.  There  was  nothing  mysterious  in  the 
mere  fact  of  her  receiving  a  letter  outside  of  the  ordinary  channel, 
nor  should  I  have  given  it  a  second  thought,  but  for  the  appearance 
of  the  man  who  brought  it.  He  was  a  coarse,  rough  looking  fellow, 
in  a  battered  wool  hat,  which  may  sometime  have  been  white  and 
presentable,  but  was  certainly  quite  the  reverse  then  ;  and  his  gray 
clothes  were  not  only  dirty,  but  ragged.  I  don't  know  whether  she 
hurried  him  off,  or  he  had  the  sense  to  go,  himself;  but  he  did  not 
stop  a  second,  in  all,  and  was  away  so  soon  that  I  really  stopped  and 
questioned  whether  I  had  seen  any  one  at  the  gate  excepting  Miss 
Wakefield  herself,  who  remained  there  for  fully  five  minutes,  looking 
out  as  if  into  the  street.  Of  course  I  avoided  every  appearance  of 
having  seen  anything  which  it  was  intended  I  should  not  see,  and 
after  An  interval  she  went  up  to  her  own  room.  I  suppose  I  must 
have  looked  the  indescribable  things  I  felt;  for  Vetiard  laughed 
Avhen  I  joined  him  by  the  steps,  and  exclaimed,  'well,  what  of  it!' 
•which  is  just  what  I  should  like  to  know.  He  had  seen  the  same 
performance  I  witnessed,  though  he  conducted  himself  with  equal 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THB  POPLARS.  193 

propriety,  which  I  rather  wonder  at,  as,  usual'y  when  he  \vishes  to 
sec  anything,  he  looks  at  it,  and  that  with  sufficient  directness." 

"Of  course.  Where's  the  sense  in  playing  hypocrite  and  pretend- 
ing you  don't  see  things,  when  you  do  and  mean  to !  The  poor  girl 
was  embarrassed,  however  she  strove  to  conceal  it ;  and  having  seen 
all  there  was  to  be  seen,  I  had  no  call  to  seem  to  triumph  in  it,"  ex- 
plained Mr.  Vennrd  in  self-defence. 

<l  Well,  what  next  I""  asked  Lisle. 

"  I  don't  know  that.  I  only  know  that  we  attached  no  importance 
to  Miss  Wakefield  remaining  in  her  own  room  till  you  called,  during 
the  evening,  and  you  know  that  she  appeared  exactly  as  usual  when 
she  received  you  and  bade  you  adieu  afterward.  When  you  left,  she 
went  directly  back  to  her  room,  merely  bidding  us  good  night,  from 
which  wo  only  understood  that  we  should  see  her  no  more  that 
evening.  Soon  afterward  Venard  went  out,  and  I  took  up  a  book  to 
read  till  bed  tiuic,  and  cf  course  took  no  heed  of  anything  more. 
The  light  was  not  burning  in  Miss  Wakefield's  room  when  I  went 
up-stairs  at  about  ten  o'clock,  and  thinking  her  asleep,  I  went  softly 
past  her  door,  and  awoke  next  morning  to  learn  that  she  had  not 
stayed  in  the  house  through  the  night.  The  gate  was  locked  and 
the  key  thrown  back  into  the  yard,  so  I  suppose  she  let  herself  out. 
The  present  question  is,  when  will  she  be  let  in." 

"  I  think  that  had  she  intended  to  remain  long  absent,  she  would 
have  said  something  about  it  to  some  of  us.  She  knows  that  to- 
morrow is  the  day  named  for  your  social  muster,  or  whatever  it  may 
be  called;  and  it  is  the  best  guarantee  that  she  will  return  before 
the  hour  named  in  your  cards." 

"  But  should  she  not  come  at  all !    Who  knows  if  she  intends  to  ?" 

Lisle  left  the  house  an  hour  afterward  with  these  words  ringing  in 
his  ears.  They  awoke  a  new  fear  within  his  heart,  oppressed  him 
with  a  dire  foreboding  which  he  could  not  banish.  During  these 
long  months  in  which  their  friendship  had  strengthened  and  grown 
perfect,  frank  and  communicative  as  she  had  been  with  him  upon 
all  subjects  unconnected  with  her  own  history,  upon  this  one  topic  a 
silence  as  of  death  had  reigned  between  them,  and  not  even  one  ac- 
cidental allusion  had  informed  him  of  an} thing  relating  to  her  life 
which  was  not  equally  known  to  others.  If  she  had  kindred,  no 
reference  to  them  ever  passed  her  lips  ;  and  after  that  first  inquiry 
relative  to  her  mother,  LLlo  had  displayed  an  equal  reticence. 
Should  she  really  have  disappeared  to  return  no  more,  he  had  actu- 
ally no  clue  by  which  to  follow  her.  Why  should  he  wish  to  do  30  ? 


194  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

He  did  not  ask  himself  the  question;  the  suggestion  itself  awoke 
him  to  the  truth.  He  loved  her ;  bestowed  upon  her  an  affection  as 
absorbing  and  devoted  as  it  was  boundless  in  confidence.  He  re- 
alized it  to  its  fullest  extent,  now  ihat  this  clueless  absence  awoke 
him  to  the  fear  that  ±lie  w;is  lost  to  him  iorever,  "  gone  out  "  from 
his  existence  like  a  lost  st;>r  fn>in  the  firmament.  "  What  if  she 
should  never  come  back  ?''  What  indeed  I  And  if  she  were  to 
came — what  then  ?  Lisle  stopped  and  looked  his  own  life  in  the 
face. 

What  right  had  he  to  love  any  woman,  with  one  thought  of  mak- 
ing her  l.is  wife  !  He  wh.>  had  not  even  a  name  to  give  her,  upon 
whose  very  life  the  upliitud  threatening  hand  of  relentless  fate  might 
at  any  hour  descend,  crushing  to  dust  the  last  remnant  of  his  man- 
hood's pride  and  dignity.  While  his  mother  lived,  he  had  not  one 
moment's  security  against  an  exposure  that  he  felt  would  crush  him 
doubly  were  another  involved  in  the  disgrace,  and  that  other  a 
woman  whom  he  pitted  as  sincerely  as  he  loved.  Leonore  Wake- 
field  had  in  her  own  life  as  great  a  trouble  as  she  could  bear,  with- 
ou:  assuming  any  portion  of  .-i nother s,  nor  could  he  even  appeal  to 
her  generosity  to  do  so  !  Dishonorable  as  he  felt  it  would  be  to  ask 
her  to  become  his  wife  with  such  a  story  unrevealed  to  her,  confess 
it  he  never  could  to  mortal  ear.  He  could  die  as  he  was  doomed  to 
live — in  solitary  isolation  from  all  that  makes  life  beautiful  or  even 
endurable,  with  a  wealth  of  tenderest  L>ve  and  pily  forever  s  alcd 
up  in  the  heart  a  misjudging  world  would  condemn  as  cold  and  mis- 
anthropic. Was  not  everything  surrounding  him  unreal — a  stupen- 
dous fraud  upon  society?  The  very  fortune  for  which  many  bowed 
down  and  courted  him,  was  like  the  iest.  a  mistake.  The  "Lisle 
Sterling  "  named  in  his  uncle's  will,  h-xd  no  exiitt-nce,  while  in  his 
place  stood  a  Lisle  Kettey  whom  nobody  knew,  as  was  most  fortu- 
nate for  him ! 

Supposing  that,  thus  accursed,  he  should  stifle  the  voice  of  honor, 
and  win  the  woman  he  loved  for  his  wife.  Would  not  his  whole 
future  life  pay  the  penalty,  as  with  shrinking  dread  he  received  each 
cardess  word  as  a  bar'  cd  arrow  of  reproach  ?  Would  not  his  days 
and  nights  be  haunted  by  the  ceaseless  dread  of  this  shameful  revel- 
ation he  \v;;s  too  weak  because  too  proud  to  make  ?  He  shivered  at 
the  mint-il  question  ;  but  having  definitely  decided  it,  the  fact  rc- 
I  ubsti.ui'.e  against  his  will,  persistently  tugging  at  his  heart 
s:  rings:  better  than  life — better  than,  his  own  honor — he  lored 
Leo-ore  Wakefield ! 


THE  IIOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  195 

He  did  not  argue  that  she  was  mysterious  and  unknown,  to  him 
as  to  all  others — cared  not  a  rush  that  the  bu*y  world  might  criti- 
ci  e  her  as  it  would  be  madness  to  a  proud,  man  that  wife  of  his 
sh  >uld  be  criticised — asked  not  if  it  were  pride  or  necessity  that 
scaled  her  lips  and  placed  a  guard  over  every  action.  It  was  into 
his  own  life  and  soul  he  looked,  of  himself  alone  that  he  asked  one 
question — how  much  short  of  positive  crime  would  it  be  for  him  to 
man  y  this  woman  could  he  win  her  ? — if,  indeed,  she  had  not  gone 
from  him  forever  even  now  !  Perhaps  in  this  very  way  chance  had 
decided  the  question,  and  the  fierce  content  he  waged  against  him- 
self was  as  vain  as  the  efforts  he  mule  to  still  it. 

It  seemed  to  him  but  little  less  than  mockery  to  join  in  the  fes- 
tivity at  Mrs.  Venard's  while  such  a  pall  hung  heavily  over  his 
heart;  but  social  duty,  joined  with  a  feverish  restlessness  and  im- 
patience, urged  him  forward,  and  he  entered  the  well-filled  parlor 
scarcely  later  than  he  was  accustomed  to  appear  elsewhere  upon 
similar  occasions.  Almost  the  first  words  which  fell  upon  his  ear 
as  he  awaited  his  turn  to  pay  his  addresses  to  h:s  hostess,  were  those 
which  inquired  for  Miss  Wakefield,  whose  absence  had  thus  far  been 
easily  concealed  ;  and  he  watched  Mrs.  Venard  with  a  latent  mis- 
giving which  the  next  instant  proved  groundless,  as  she  turned  very 
composedly  toward  the  inquirer  and  replied, 

"  I  regret  your  disappointment,  and  my  own  is  equally  sincere. 
Miss  Wakefield  was  suddenly  summoned,  several  days  since,  to  the 
bedside  of  a  sick  mother,  and  it  is  uncertain  when  she  may  return, 
if  at  all." 

If  those  who  overheard  this  reply  mentally  commented  that  this 
was  the  first  time  they  had  ever  heard  that  Miss  Wakefield  had  a 
mother,  politeness  re-strained  any  exhibition  of  surprise,  and,  as 
Lisle  had  prophesied,  no  one  appeared  to  think  that  anything  un- 
usual had  occurred.  Mrs.  Wheeler  indeed,  turned  a  curious  glance 
upon  Mrs.  Vennrd  when  the  intelligence  reached  her ;  but  that 
lady's  iinpurtability  under  it,  revealed  nothing — not  even  her  im- 
patience under  the  silent  taunt  which  thus  repaid  the  indignant 
words  she  had  uttered  when  she  took  Miss  Wakefield  to  her  own 
hoa.-e. 

The  ktest  guest  had  at  length  been  duly  received,  and,  fatigued 
by  so  long  and  arduous  a  ceremony,  Mrs.  Venard  had  taken  a  seat 
m  ar  the  door,  when  a  message  was  whispered  her  by  a  servant ;  and 
rising  she  immediately  left  the  room.  Lisle,  who  watched  her 
covertly  with  an  expectancy  for  which  he  felt  that  he  h:id  very  little 


196  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

reason  at  this  late  hour,  saw  her  ascend  the  stairs,  but  so  calmly 
that  he  based  no  new  hope  upon  the  action,  nor  gave  it  a  second 
thought.  Having  passed  from  the  sight  of  her  guests,  Mrs.  Venard's 
tranquillity  gave  place  to  the  intensest  eagerness,  and  flyiug  along 
the  upper  hall  she  reached  Leouore  Wakefiold's  door,  upon  which 
she  first  impatiently  rapped,  and  then  opened  it  and  rushed  in  un- 
ceremoniously. 

"  Leonore  Wakefield !" 

"  Mrs.  Venard." 

She  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  wrapped  in  her  cloak,  and 
with  her  bonnet  unremoved  from  her  head  which  was  deprecatingly 
bowed,  though  she  oifered  no  word  in  her  own  defence. 

Mrs.  Venard  seized  upon  her  wrappings  with  a  hasty  hand  and 
tossed  them  in  a  pile  upon  the  bed.  as  she  exclaimed, 

"  For  pity's  sake  don't  stand  there,  since  you  have  come  only  at 
the  eleventh  hour !  make  Justine  dress  you  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  hurry  down  stairs.  Everybody  is  asking  for  you,"  and  as  she 
spoke  Mrs.  Venard  pulled  the  bell-cord  vigorously. 

Leonore  made  one  step  forward,  then  stopped,  and  asked  with 
tearful  eyes, 

"  Do  you  truly  thus  welcome  me  back  ?" 

"Why  not,  you  foolish  child  !  Did  you  think  me  a  second  Mrs. 
Wheeler  ?  In  the  name  of  justice  and  common  sense,  what  right 
have  I  or  any  one  else  to  assume  to  be  your  keeper  ?  Leonore  Wake- 
field,  do  see  and  feel  that  I  am  your  friend." 

Leonore  threw  her  arms  impetuously  around  Mrs.  Venard,  and 
kissed  her  again  and  again,  while  her  own  eyes  were  streaming  with 
tears  of  love  and  gratitude. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear  Mrs.  Vcnard !  You  must  feel  and  know 
that  I  am  not  the  graceless  creature  I  seem.  Would  to  heaven  that 
I  could  explain  all  to  you !  but  my  pride  is  greater  than  my  strength, 
and  I  cannot,  connot !  I  am  unfortunate,  miserable,  but  nothing 
woise,  God  knows  !:' 

"  Poor  child  !  There,  be  still.  Bathe  your  face  till  you  banish  its 
flush,  and  call  back  its  smile?.  You  will  need  all  your  self  posses- 
sion, despite  what  I  can  do  to  aid  you.  Here  is  Justine,  in  whose 
hands  I  shall  leave  you.  Come  in,  Justine  ;  your  young  mistress 
has  returned.  Help  her  to  dress  as  quickly  as  possible;  do  you 
hear'r" 

When  Mrs.  Venaid  re-entered  the  purler,  Lisle  chanced  to  be 
standing  near  the  door;  and  as  she  passed  him  she  whispered 
quickly, 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  197 

'•  Leonore  has  corae." 

He  felt  actually  giddy  from  the  surge  of  blood  which  the  suddenly 
bounding  heart  forced  into  his  brain,  and  the  glad  surprise  held  him 
for  an  instant  spell-bound. 

Turning  towards  him  as  she  gained  the  opposite  end  of  the  room, 
Mrs.  Venard  marked  the  effect  of  this  intelligence,  and  like  a  flash 
the  whole  truth  dawned  upon  her.  There  was  no  time,  now,  to  pass 
even  a  mental  comment  upon  the  fact  as  it  stood  revealed  to  her. 
The  first  duty  was  quietly  to  circulate  the  fact  of  Miss  Wakefield's 
return,  and  announce  her  forthcoming  appearance ;  and  this  she  did 
at  once.  In  their  own  circle  Miss  Wakefield  was  known  only  as  a  lady 
and  a  rare  musician  ;  and  as  "  Mis.  Venard's  friend,"  the  fact  that  she 
maintained  herself  by  the  exercise  of  her  wondrous  musical  genius, 
was  a  matter  of  no  importance  even  to  the  most  exclusive,  while  this 
very  accomplishment  secured  her  the  fullest  amount  of  admiration 
and  appreciation. 

She  entered  the  rooms,  at  last,  beautiful  and  calm  as  ever,  with- 
out one  trace  of  her  late  emotion  visible  upon  the  fair,  pale  face,  or 
in  the  lustrous  dark  eyes,  which,  like  her  lips,  smiled  her  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  many  congratulations  she  received.  Only  one 
passed  belle  ventured  a  politely  concealed  "thrust  as  Miss  Wakefield 
greeted  her. 

"  May  I  inquire  where  you  left  your  mother,  Miss  Wakefield  ?' 
"Oh,  horrors!"   exclaimed   Mrs.  Venard    mentally.      "I    never 
thought  to  tell  Miss  Wakefield  what  excuse  we  made  for  her  ab-' 
sence !"     She  was,  then,  intensely  relieved  by  the  perfect  self-pos- 
session with  which  Leonore  replied  without  one  trace  of  anything 
like  surprise  at  the  unexpected  question,  whose  cause  she  at  once 
divined  instinctively. 

"Certainly,  thank  you.  She  is  once  more  around  her  room, 
though  I  fear  she  will  for  some  time  be  confined  to  it,"  and,  with  a 
bow,  she  passed  on,  serene  and  undisturbed  as  ever. 

Lisle  approached  and  offered  her  his  arm,  and  as  she  placed  her 
little  gloved  hand  upon  it  and  passed  on  with  him,  he  pressed  it  im- 
pulsively upon  his  heart  as  one  who  thus  claimed  what  he  had  re- 
solved to  possess. 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  the  glance  that  answered  her 

own  told  her  as  plainly  as  words  could  have  done,  all  that  she  had 

become  to  him.     A  spasm  of  actual  pain  crossed  her  face — a  laint 

index  of  the  aching  heart  whose  every  beat  was  unmixed  agony ! 

"  You  are  distraite,  fair  Leonore,"  ho  said  bantcringly,  as  an  abso- 


193  THE  TTOUSE  BEIIIXD  THE   POPLARS. 

lute  silence  rcigtied  between  them  after  that  brief  glance.  "May  T 
ask  an  explanation  of  this  dire-presaging  silence  ?" 

'•  Yes,  some  other  time.  Are  you  going  to  reproach  me  as  a  false, 
unsatisfactory  sort  of  friend,  as  I  prophesied?" 

"  No,  I  cannot,  for  I  have  ceased  to  think  of  you  as  my  friend. 
Oh,  Leonore,  Leonore,  give  me  some  right  to  tell  you  what  I  must 
and  will.  If  you  do  not  speak  it  I  shall  assume  it,  though  in  pen- 
ance; you  banish  me  from  your  sight  foivvcr  after.'' 

"  Beware  of  appropriating  what  does  not  belong  to  you  1"  she 
cautioned  him  with  an  effort  towards  playfulness,  which  the  per- 
ceptible paling  of  her  ever  clear  cheek  painfully  exposed. 

"  That  was  a  lesson  of  my  early  youth,  which,  among  others,  I 
nm  resolved  to  forget.  It  would  be  well  for  some  of  us  could  we 
rub  out  the  entire  page  of  these  early  lessons,  even  though  some 
good  thus  perish  with  much  evil.  In  my  youth  I  learned  to  dis- 
trust everything  and  everybody.  I  have  unlearned  that  lesson, 
Leonore." 

They  had  wandered  out  upon  the  veranda,  and  stood  now  near  a 
trellised  vine,  through  which  tlie  starlight  fell  upon  them  dimly. 
She  could  not  read  the  expression  of  his  face,  but  there  was  a  new 
tone  in  his  voice  which  emphasized  his  words  strangely,  and,  at  a 
loss  for  a  reply,  she  stood  silently  awaiting  what  was  to  follow. 

"  Leonore,  is  it  possible  for  a  woman  to  be  faithful  and  true  ?  I 
am  dreaming  it  for  the  fir^t  time — the  very  first." 

"  Be  my  friend  as  you  have  been,  and  you  shall  see.  Only  remain 
my  friend" 

It  was  perhaps  only  fancy  that  imparted  a  deeper  meaning  to 
these  words  ;  but  they  fell  as  the  knell  of  hope  upon  his  heart,  and 
before  he  recovered  from  them,  voices  were  heard  demanding  Miss 
Wakefield,  whose  musical  ovations  were  solicited.  They  went  for- 
ward, and  Lisle  resigned  her,  while  her  last  words  still  rang  in  his 
ears  and  afterward  haunted  his  sleepless  hours.  How  could  he  for 
one  moment  have  fancied  any  barrier  should  separate  them,  save 
that  of  her  own  will  ?  he  asked  himself  in  contempt  for  his  own 
former  arguments.  Had  not  every  living  being  a  right  to  seek  hap- 
piness, and  win  it  if  possible  ?  ''  Let  those  who  have  wilfully  in- 
curred disgrace,  bow  their  necks  to  the  yoke  of  merited  punishment. 
I  have  not,  and  I  will  not  suffer  voluntary  penance  for  the  sins  of 
others,  so  help  me  heaven  !"  A  new  resolve  had  strengthened  in  his 
soul,  born  of  that  sense  of  innate  justice  implanted  in  every  human 
breast 


THE   TIOTTSK    ?.TCTTTXT>    TH's    r^T'T.ATtR.  109 


CHAPTER  XVIH. 

IF  the  hours  succeeding  immediately  upon  Leonore  Wakefield's  r.  - 
turn  were  passed  by  Lisle  in  unabated  mental  conflict,  they  were 
fraught  with  agony  to  her;  and,  unlike  him,  she  was  far  from  con- 
quering a  peace.  The  sleepless,  tortured  night,  left  her  ill  and  mis- 
erable ;  and  when,  shutting  out  the  morning  light  by  which  falling 
curtains,  she  paced  her  chamber  to  and  fro,  her  hands  fiercely  clasped 
behind  her,  and  her  head  bent  upon  her  breast  over  thick  floated 
dark  and  heavy  the  masses  of  her  disheveled  hair,  it  was  evident  in 
her  whole  appearance,  as  well  as  in  the  impatient  manner  with  which 
from  time  to  time  she  dashed  aside  the  scalding  tears  from  her  flushed 
face,  that  she  was  racked  by  one  of  those  fierce  rebellious  which  at 
times  convulse  every  suffering  soul ;  rebellions  in  which  the  stung 
and  tortured  spirit  turns  and  looks  its  author  in  the  face,  upbraiding 
him  ior  the  cruel  curse  of  its  creation. 

To  endure,  to  suffer — brief  words  for  such  an  eternity  of  aching 
misery  !  a  fearful  lease  of  that  lifo  whose  every  hour  is  a  history  of 
suffering  and  decay  uncheered  by  one  real  joy  worth  the  having 
lived  to  experience !  one  linked  chain  of  pain  and  mental  torture, 
over  which  pride  wreaths  the  concealing  lips,  and  which  actual  false- 
hood scarce  cloaks  from  prying  eyes!  Who  or  whatever  possessed 
the  right  to  inflict  existence  at  such  a  price !  The  flimsy  veil  of 
orthodox  sophistry  is  rent  to  atoms  and  trodden  in  the  dust,  iu  these 
fearful  convulsions  through  which  the  writhing  soul  will  be  heard. 

Gentle  and  yielding  as  Leonore  "Wakefield  peculiarly  was,  by  na- 
ture, in  this  tempestuous  hour  she  seemed  transformed  into  a  tortured 
Pythoness.  . 

Calling  back  the  course  of  years  which  formed  her  lifo,  each  one 
of  them  rose  before  her  wrapped  in  its  own  peculiar  bitterness — an 
vnloved  childhood,  an  unguided  youth,  an  isolated  womanhood! 
Such  was  the  retrospect  that  led  her  to  the  miserable  present.  A 
generor.s,  fruitful  harvest  of  wrongs  and  mi  fortunes  oppressing  her 
like  actual  sins,  was  all  these  weary  years  seemed  to  have  yielded 
her. 


200  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

How  long  was  all  this  to  endure  ?  Was  a  brighter  day  never  to 
dawn  upon  her  ?  Did  not  the  power  that  called  her  into  being  owe 
her  some  atonement  for  the  merciless  act?  or  in  thiatlife  of  suffering, 
would  the  maddened  soul  at  last  lose  its  claim  even  to  eternal  peace 
when  its  earthly  race  was  doae !  Torn  and  wrung  till  many  a  blas- 
phemous seam  marred  its  beauty,  would  it  perhaps  be  refused  a 
mooring  when  this  tempest-sought  haven  at  last  lay  fair  and  balmy 
before  its  longing  gaze  ?  Fitting,  if  fearful  end,  to  such  a  career  as 
human  life ! 

Contemptuous,  withering  whispers,  that  left  their  impress  in  the 
swelling  veins  that  rose  and  fell  with  every  bitter  heart-throb,  and 
Bpoke  again  in  the  deafening  surge  that  beat  upon  her  brain  ! 

She  heard  a  rap  upon  her  door,  but  gave  no  answer,  nor  for  a  mo- 
ment stayed  her  steps.  It  was  repeated,  and  then  Mrs.  Venard's 
voice  called  in  alarm, 

"  Leonore  Wakefield,  what  is  the  matter  ?  For  pity's  sake,  let  me 
in." 

"  Wait  one  moment,''  she  replied ;  and,  schooled  by  long  self-dis- 
cipline, Leonore  forced  the  quivering  features  into  peace,  pressed 
back  the  angry  lit'etide  from  her  swollen  temples,  and  standing  mute 
one  instant  as  if  imposing  the  power  of  her  will  over  the  weak  phys- 
ical frame,  she  turned  the  key  and  admitted  Mrs.  Veiiard,  who  looked 
upon  her  for  one  instant  in  a  startled  silence,  and  then  wldle  tears 
welled  up  into  her  usually  keen  and  penetrating  eyes,  asked  tenderly, 

"  Leonore,  dear  child,  is  there  nothing  I  can  do  for  you  ?*' 

"  Nothing  at  all,  thank  you ;  unless,  indeed,  you  will  accommodate 
me  with  about  six  feet  of  eartli  and  a  green  covering." 

"Leonore,  you  are  miserable,  wretched  !  Do  not  add  bitterness 
to  that.  Why  won't  you  let  me  be  your  friend  and  comforter !" 

"  Do  not  distress  yourself,  my  kindest,  my  best  of  friends.  Let  me 
work  out  my  retribut.on  in  my  own  way,  should  such  a  thing  be  in 
the  keeping  of  time.  Were  I  to  accept  a  comforter  at  the  price  it  would 
cost  me,  1  should  wither  and  die  !  In  utter  silence  lies  my  only  strength. 
Leave  me  that,  and  so  prove  yourself  my  friend.  My  burdens  would 
not  be  lightened  by  imposing  them  upon  you,  or  any  one  ;  but  quite 
the  reverse." 

"  I  know  one  who  would  give  much  for  the  right  to  alleviate  them. 
I  refused  to  have  this  card  sent  up  to  you,  declaring  that  you  had 
remained  invisible  to  all  since  last  night;  but  I  could  not  resist  tho 
pleading  eyes  with  which  he  still  extended  it,  and  as  I  would  not 
have  you  intruded  upon  by  a  servant,  I  brought  it  myself." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TIIE  POPLARS.  201 

Leonore  received  the  card,  though  it  needed  no  glance  to  assure 
her  Hint  "  Lisle  Sterling"  was  the  name  engraved  upon  it. 

"  I  am  not  fit  to  see  any  one  to-day.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
tell  him— ' 

'•  Impossible — write  it,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Venard. 

*'  No.  I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  will  see  him,"  and  she  rang 
f>r  Justine  while  hastily  gathering  up  her  hair  to  be  bound  in  its 
usual  classic  style. 

\  Mrs.  Venard  lui't  her,  and  sensibly  leaving  the  drawing-room  when 
she  had  announced  the  success  of  her  mission,  she  soou  afterward 
heard  Leonore  enter  it  and  close  the  door. 

Lisle  stood  gazing  out  of  the  window,  with  his  arms  folded  be- 
hind him,  but  ha  turned  as  Leonore  entered,  and,  reading  at  a 
glance  that  she  had  passed  through  some  storm  which  yet  was 
scarcely  stilled,  he  clasped  both  her  hands  within  his  own  and  bent 
a  searching  yet  unutterably  tender  look  upon  her  face. 

She  did  not  turn  it  from  him,  but  her  eyes  drooped  while  a  steady 
flush  crept  by  degrees  up  to  her  very  forehead ;  and  filled  with 
tenderest  compassion,  he  led  her  to  a  sofa  and  seated  himself  beside 
her.  Still  clasping  her  hands,  he  raised  them  to  his  lips  in  a  man- 
ner more  pitying  than  loverlike,  then  said  softly, 

"  Leonore,  you  seem  even  more  unhappy  than  I  am.  Is  it  so  ?" 
'  "I  am  more  utterly  and  completely  wretched  than  you  can  be  ! 
You  are  not  bowed  to  tho  very  dust  by  a  burden  you  can  no  more 
cast  off  than  you  can  look  up  under.  1  have  no  right  even  to  friend- 
ship, since  I  cannot  openly  and  frankly  receive  it,  feeling  that  I  am 
upon  equal  terms  with  those  who  offer  it." 

"  Nor  can  I,  Leonore.  Your  right  in  this  respect  is  equal  to  my 
own.  Here,  at  leust,  we  can  sympathize  with  and  understand  each 
other." 

"You?"  she  asked  wonderingly.  "It  seems  to  me  that  if  any 
mortal  ever  was  truly  blessed  and  fortunate,  you  are  so.'' 

'•  You  know  how  little  one  can  judge  from  externals.  Leonore,  I 
nm  not  accustomed  to  enlarge  upon  my  own  private  affairs,  you  will 
bear  me  witness;  but  I  came  to  you  to-day  expressly  to  egotize,  and 
I  now  frankly  and  truthfully  confess  to  you  that  I  am  a  species  of 
vagabond  in  the  polite  and  fastidious  world  ;  that  I  am  an  impostor, 
though  God  knows  a  guiltless  one — that  a  cloud  hangs  over  my  life 
from  whose  shadow  I  may  never  escape ;  and  which  for  year*  ren- 
dered ino  misanthropical  and  distrustful  towards  all  living  beings. 
My  first  lesson  in  life  was  one  of  suspicion  and  distrust,  and  I  have, 


202  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

perhaps,  no  right  to  offer  a  heart  thus  early  warped  and  distorted, 
to  any  woman  whom  the  sun  shines  on.  More  than  this,  I  can  never 
explain  to  you  or  any  one.  Were  you  fortunate  and  happy,  as  you 
deserve  to  be,  I  should  not  say  to  you  what  I  now  do ;  but,  situated  a> 
you  are,  rny  love  cannot  prove  a  misfortune  to  you,  since  I  can  and 
will  protect  you  from  much  which  now  oppresses  you, and  whatever 
I  cannot  offer  you,  I  can  and  do  offer  tne  sincerest  and  entire  affec- 
tion of  a  heart  that  never  before  beat  one  throb  the  faster  for  any 
living  woman.  We  have  each  a  sorrow  which  we  claim  the  right  to 
preserve  inviolate.  Respect  mine,  as  I  most  faithfully  will  respect 
yours ;  and  give  me  the  right  to  shield  and  protect,  as  I  love  you. 
Leonore,  can  you,  will  you  accept  as  a  husband  such  a  man  as  you 
now  know  me  to  be  ?" 

"I  cannot,  I  cannot.  You  do  not  know  what  you  ask,  you  would 
not  ask  it  if  you  did." 

"Do  you.  then,  pronounce  me  quite  unworthy  ?" 

"  No,  no.  It  is  I  who  am  unworthy.  Were  I  to  become  your 
wife,  you  would  hate  me  irhould  you  ever  know  all  which  I  know  !'' 

"  Then  may  I  never  learn  it.  Enough  for  me  that  I  know  you 
pure  and  good,  that  I  trust  you  as  I  never  dreamed  I  could  trust 
any  one,  that  without  you  my  life  is  worthless  !  Whatever  may  be 
the  sorrow  you  conceal  from  me,  if  I  ever  so  far  forget  my  manhood 
as  to  persecute  you  upon  account  of  it,  remind  me  that  I  now  and 
here  assumed  the  full  and  entire  responsibility  of  its  concealment, 
and  shame  me  for  practising  toward  another  the  injustice  I  would 
not  endure  myself.  Take  me  upon  your  own  terms,  Leonore.  I 
consent  to  any.'' 

"  Do  not  torture  me.  This  ia  utterly  impossible,  and  you  must 
not,  for  your  own  sake,  urge  it." 

'•  Tell  me,  then,  that  you  do  not  love  me  ;  and  I  cease  forever." 

£lae  wi.s  silent,  and  the  hands  she  had  withdrawn  from  his  clasp 
trembled  visibly. 

"  Leonore !" 

She  turned  impulsively  toward  him,  and  exclaimed, 

"  I  do  love  you  !     I  will  not  deny  it." 

"  Then  why  do  you  banish  me  ?" 

"  Your  own  lips  pronounced  that  sentence  months  ago." 

"  Mine  ?  Then  they  spoke  what  my  heart  and  soul  protest  against." 

"Were  any  other  than  you  to  sp  >ak  those  words,  if  I  loved  him  I 
f-hould  yield.  But  to  you,  of  all  the  world,  I  cannot.  As  my  friend, 
you  will  remain  unchanged  by  any  revelations;  I  believe  it.  But  as  N 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   TUB   POPLARS.  203 

my  husbind,  were  I  to  marry  you  against  the  voice  of  my  own  con- 
science, you  might  one  day  reproach  me  in  a  way  that  would  over- 
whelm me  with  shame  and  despair.  The  very  presence  of  a  secret 
between  us  would  embitter  your  life,  and  your  faith  and  trust  in  me 
would  suffer  ceaseless  martyrdom.  If  it  is  ever  to  be,  it  cannot  ba 
now." 

"  Then  you  do  give  me  a  hope  that  in  time  you  will  revoke  thia 
morning's  decision  ?" 

"  Perhaps.     It  is  possible,  but  most  improbable." 
"  Then  upon  that  possibility  I  anchor  my  hope.     Meantime  that  I 
patiently  wait,  promise  me  that  if  you  in  any  way  need  the  services 
or  protection  of  one  who  only  asks  to  bestow  them,  you  will  claim 
them  of  me  as  you  would  were  you  in  reality  my  wife.     Promise  me 
this,  sacredly." 
"  I  do.     I  will." 

"  One  thing  more,  dear  Leonore.  If  the  time  ever  comes  when 
you  feel,  that,  despite  this  day's  decision,  you  will  be  happier  as  my 
wife,  freer  under  my  roof  than  another's,  tell  me  so  without  one  mo- 
ment's false  delicacy.  Will  you  ?" 

She  raised  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  smiling  through  them, 
.and  Lisle  clasped  her  impetuously  to  his  breast. 

"  There,  Leonore,  you  are  the  fir»t  woman  I  have  ever  kissed  save 
filially,  nn  1  you  shall  be  the  last." 

She  raised  her  hands  towards  him  as  she  said  fervently, 
"If  to  be  your  wife  in  thi-5  world  incurred  purgatory  in  the  next, 
I  would  cheerfully  suffer  it !" 

He  reimpiisoned  them  as  he  answered  smiling  and  hopefully, 
"My  wif-  you  certainly  will  be  ;  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  ;  and 
my  effort  shall  be  that  you  suffer  not  purgatory  here,  as  well  as  in  the 
future  !     It  were  extortion  to  impose  double  rates.'1 

"  Oh  do  not  speak  so  confidently  ;  you  make  me  fear  I  have  done 
wrongly  to  offer  any  hope  for  the  future.  Remember  I  have  prom- 
ised nothing — all  is  dark  and  uncertain.  Remember  it  may  never 
be !" 

"  Did  you  fancy  I  could  forget  ?  Much  as  there  is  which  I  long  to 
h  ar  you  say,  what  you  have  spoken,  despite  its  attendant  discour- 
agements, has  marie  me  happy,  and  in  this  I  may  rejoice,  even  while 
I  remember  that  there  are  more  people  who  love  and  never  marry 
each  other,  than  tho-e  who,  marrying,  do  so  because  they  love.  In 
this  world  where  so  many  affairs  go  perversely  wrong,  lie  only  is  a 
philosopher,  who,  from  the  least  wrong  extracts  the  most  enjoy- 


COi  TUB   HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   TOPI-AUS. 

lilt  'lit.  My  life  has  not  been  so  overflowing  with  happiness  that  I 
tan  throw  away  what  is  vouchsafed  me,  because  it  is  all  too  meagre 
lo  satisfy  my  demands.  Come,  Leonore;  let  us  emulatt;  Macbeth,  and 
throw  care  to  the  dogs.  Care  makes  men  mad  and  women  old." 


An  hour  after,  as  Mrs.  Venard  met  Leonore  upon  the  way  to  her 
room,  the  changed  aspect  of  her  face  and  demeanor  prompted  her  to 
extend  her  hand  with  a  smile  of  congratulation. 

Leonore  raised  her  own  in  deprecation,  and  while  the  old  expres- 
sion came  back  over  her  features,  she  said  in  a  voice  of  self-reproach, 

"  Of  all  the  weak  acts  I  ever  committed,  I  have  to-day  done  the 
very  worst,  since  I  have,  under  an  irresistible  impulse,  held  out  a 
hope  which  I  can  never  realize — never  /"  and  without  waiting  for  a 
reply,  she  passed  quickly  up  to  her  room  and  closed  the  door. 

In  the  evening  Lisle  called  to  attend  Mrs.  Bertram  to  the  play,  as 
usual,  when  she  wished  to  attend ;  and  to  his  surprise  she  herself  ad- 
mitted him  into  the  hall,  llis  surprise  at  her  unusual  punctuality 
was  quickly  dissipated,  as  with  a  meaning  smile  she  said, 

"  Yes,  for  once  I  am  ready.  You  see  I  would  not  lose  one  mo- 
ment before  offering  my  felicitations,  and  I  hope  you  will  for  once 
admit  that  my  promptness  is  not  ill  timed." 

"  I  never  thought  you  so  malicious !" 

"  What  upon  earth  do  you  mean  !  '  Malicious ' — I  ?" 

"  Sarcastic,  then,  if  the  word  please  you  better.  Yours  is  a  novel 
reception  of '  a  rejected.'  Many  such  would  quite  overwhelm  me." 

"  '  Eejected !'  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Leonore  Wakefield 
has  refused  you  ?" 

"  She  displayed  exactly  that  good  sense." 

"  Astonishing !" 

"  The  only  thing  astonishing  to  me  is,  how  you  became  so  well- 
informed  upon  the  subject  as  you  were.  You  shall  tell  me  as  we  go, 
as  there  is  no  time  to  lose  before  the  curtain  rises." 

Once  in  the  carriage,  Mrs.  Bertram  laughed.  "You  wonder  how 
I  gained  my  information,  do  you  ?  Well,  I  had  half  of  it  last  night, 
as  I  saw  you  when  you  met  Leonore,  and  on  your  whole  face  was 
written — '  111  certainly  propose  before  another  sun  go^s  down  !'  and 
if  I  hadn't  seen  that,  I  should  have  known  it  all  as  you  passed  my 
house  this  morning  on  your  way  to  the  Venaids.  There  was  a 
whole  Solomon's  song  in  the  very  tie  of  your  cravat.  '  I  charge  you, 
oh,  daughters,  &c.,  if  you  see  my  beloved,'  &c.,  and  so  on.  Thero 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  205 

never  was  a  plainer  shadow  of  forthcoming  events  cast  over  any 
mortal  man's  face !" 

"Not  to  mention  that  Mrs.  Venard  dropped  in  to  see  you  in  a 
neighborly  way  as  early  as  practicable,  eh  ?" 

Mrs.  Bertram  laughed  a  confession  of  such  an  event,  and  then 
added  with  a  little  manifest  pique, 

"It  is  a  singular  sort  of  affair,  I  must  admit,  that  thus  leads  both 
Em  and  me  to  such  false  conclusions.  One  might  have  known  that 
you  couldn't  and  wouldn't  do  anything  like  other  people  ;  and  the 
only  hope  is,  that  in  Leonore  Wakefield  you've  found  your  match." 

"  I  wish  she  would  think  so  I"  said  he  lugubriously. 

"I'm  not  punning.  If  you  will  stickle  for  perfect  elegance  of  ex- 
pression despite  one's  righteous  indignation  under  such  provoking 
circumstances,  correct  the  sentence,  and  admit  that  in  Miss  Wake- 
field  you  have  found  some  one  as  eccentric  and  utterly  unaccounta- 
ble ns  yourself.  What  upon  earth  could  have  led  her  to  refuse 
you  y 

"  I  don't  exactly  know ;  but  I'm  shrewdly  suspicious — that — sho 
didn't  wish  to  marry  me  /" 

"  Provoking  fellow ;  I  really  thought  you  were  going  to  say 
something  !  but  as  you  didn't,  I  will.  I  think  that  any  woman  who 
ever  married  any  man  who  could  jest  over  her  having  refused  him, 
would  come  to  untimely  grief!" 

"  Make  a  memorandum  for  your  own  future  guidance.  Bertram 
is  looking  rather  poorly  of  late !" 

"  Sterling,  you  meant  to  disturb  my  amiable  temper  by  that  sage 
remark  ;  but  upon  the  contrary,  it  soothed  my  ruffled  feelings,  and 
in  proof  of  it,  I'm  going  to  announce  to  you,  in  strict  confidence, 
that  any  women  who  has  a  sufficient  quantity  of  '  treasures  upon 
earth '  to  support  her  in  comfort,  had  better  defy  '  rust  and  moths,' 
and  trust  in  oxalic  acid  and  camphor-gum,  instead  of  marrying 
any  man !  Matrimony,  for  a  woman  who  has  nothing  in  her  own 
right,  is  a  sort  of  genteel,  licensed  beggary ;  and  one  who  has 
enough,  is  better  off  without  it.  Were  my  husband's  wife  to  peram- 
bulate the  streets  of  this  fastidious  city  as  she  walks  through  his 
house,  she  would  be  arrested  as  a  vagrant.  '  No  visible  means  of 
support'  isn't  put  down  against  a  marital  pensioner;  that's  the 
only  difference." 

" '  Soothing  reflection !'  to  be  Pecksniffian  in  my  remark.  Let  me 
tell  you  it  is  something  to  possess  an  acknowledged  license  to  beg 
and  pirate.  Now  don't  spoil  your  amiable  expression  of  counte- 


206  THE   HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   FOFJ-ALiS. 

nance  just  as  we  are  at  the  door.  The  rage  for  ;  spirited  women '  has 
gone  by." 

The  curtaiu  had  just  risen  as  they  entered,  and  Mrs.  Bertram 
forgot  her  trifling  vexation  till  at  the  end  of  the  first  act  it  returned 
with  an  accession,  and  turning  toward  Lisle  she  said, 

"  I'm  getting  disgusted  with  plays.  The  most  popular  ones  seem 
revised  editions  and  imitations  of  '  Taming  the  Shrew,'  and  one 
grows  as  much  disgusted  with  the  masculine  applause  which  at- 
tends this  wonderful  exhibition  of  married  authority  and  household 
snubbing  in  general,  as  with  the  unnatural  feminine  meekness  ex- 
hibited— on  the  stage  only  .'" 

"  Poor  creature !  losing  all  the  bright  illusions  of  youth,  and  a 
positive  monomaniac  upon  the  subject  of  snubbing!  '  S:c  a  wife  as 
Wille  had,'  &c.  I'm  afraid  Bertram  will  never  look  less  poorly !'' 

" Oh,  do  hush  !  Do  you  suppose  one  is  never  serious?  I'm  cross 
as  a  bear  now,  and  I  forbid  you  to  speak  again  tj-night." 

Quite  forgetting  this  injunction,  she  turned  again  to  ask  some 
question  after  a  long  silence  had  restored  her  good  nature ;  but  im- 
plicitly obeying  her  comman  1,  Lisle  would  not  unseal  his  lips,  and 
at  the  close  of  the  play  escorted  her  home  in  the  same  unbroken  si- 
lence. Bowing  her  in  at  her  own  door,  he  received  a  parting  thrust. 

"You  are  a  most  unbearably  provoking  fellow,  and  I  give  you 
fair  warning  that  another  time  I  won't  be  made  a  scapegoat  for  your 
ill  humor !  If  you  must  abuse  some  one's  wife,  I'm  sorry  it  can't  be 
your  own,  I'm  sure ;  but  I  won't  be  made  to  suffer  in  her  stead." 

Lisle  laughed  unrestrainedly;  but  really  feeling  that  for  his  own 
amusement  he  carried  the  affair  too  far,  he  offered  a  sincere  apology 
which  she  interrupted  by  a  curt  "  good  night,"  and  passed  along 
the  hall. 

There  was  a  light  in  her  room,  by  which  her  husband  lay  read- 
ing ;  and  she  interrupted  him  at  once. 

"What  do  you  think  !  Leonore  Wakefield  has  refused  to  marry 
Lisle  Sterling.1' 

Mr.  Bertram  laid  aside  his  book  and  deliberately  lighted  a  cigar, 
having  achieved  which,  he  made  an  eloquent  remark.  ''•Humph  /" 

"  No  '  humph '  about  it.  She  has  done  a  most  surprising  thing, 
and  a  foolish  one,  as  it  seems  to  me.  Sterling  isn't  a  domestic  angel, 
I  grant,  as  I've  sufficient  reason  to  know  ;  but  he  is  a  good  match, 
and  she  ought  to  know  it.  However  else  is  she  to  get  out  of  her 
half  governess  sort  of  life  for  which  she  13  about  as  well  fitted  by 
nature  as  Queen  Titania." 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   TOFLABS.         .  207 

'    Mr.  Bertram  puffed  bis  cigar  in  silence,  and  she  continued, 

"  Now  I  suppose  we  are  at  the  end  of  our  pleasant  little  gather- 
ings. No  more  cozy  family  '  at  homes '  with  Leonore's  pretty  lace 
mid  delicious  music  as  an  attraction,  and  ten  to  one  Sterling  will 
leave  the  city,  or  at  least  stop  visiting  at  the  Venards." 

"  If  he  does  either,  he  isn't  the  nvm  I  think  him,''  Mr.  Bertram  re- 
plied, deliberately  and  carefully  closing  one  eye  against  the  little 
edily  of  smoke  curling  up  towards  it.  "Why  upon  earth  an  able- 
bodied  man  should  show  the  white  feather,  and  run,  just  because  a 
woman  happens  to  say  no  instead  of  yes  to  a  foolish  requett,  is  moru 
than  I  ever  co'ild  see. 
"  '  Happens  to  say  no  !' " 

"  Yes ;  it's  all  a  whim,  either  way;  and  if  a  man  receives  a  lucky 
answer,  he  had  better  not  risk  anything  by  repeating  the  same  ques- 
tion five  minutes  afterward.  If  a  poor  fellow  had  any  instinct  of 
self-preservation  under  such  circumstances — which,  unfortunately, 
he  hasn't — he  would  feel  that  the  time  to  rim  was  when  she  said  yes- 
Some  sense  in  it,  then." 

"Bertram,  what  under  heaven  induced  you  ever  to  marry?" 
"  Oh  bother,  Mattie  !  don't  go  off  on  that  tack,  I  beg  of  you.  You 
are  a  wonderfully  decent  wife,  as  wives  go  ;  but  it's  hard  to  expect  a 
man  to  be  gallantly  devoted  when  his  seven  weekly  nights  are  ren- 
dered inquisitorial  by  gouging  curl  papers,  and  his  days  anxious  by 
too  much  complexion  unrubbed  in.  Vanity,  Mattie,  vanity  ought  to 
be  your  stand  by  !" 

"  It  is  all  snubbed  out  of  me,  as  it  is  out  of  most  wives !  It  is  strange 
that  husbands  never  seem  to  think  why  their  wives  permit  some 
silken  little  masculine  to  play  the  respectfully  devoted !  It  i*n't 
pleasant  to  be  quite  upon  the  retired  list, every  woman  knows!" 

"  Oh  bother !  Why  don't  some  genius  invent  a  love-making, 
compliment-paying  machine,  for  the  benefit  of  the  two  years  married  1 
Think  of  my  making  love  to  you,  Mattie!  Fie!  go  to  bed,  little 
woman  1" 


Mr.  Bertram's  estimate  of  Lisle,  however  based  upon  a  misappre- 
hension ot  the  immediate  affairs  under  discussion,  proved  correct. 
He  neither  ceasel  visiting  at  the  Venards,  nor  added  one  element  of 
unpleasantness  to  the  usual  little  coteries  by  any  manifestation  of 
constraint  towards  the  lady  by  whom  he  had  avowed  himself  re- 
jected. Upon  the  contrary,  the  two  had  never  seemed  upon  moru 


203  THE   IIO'JSK    BEill.MJ   I'll  IS   rOI>J,AHS. 

kindly  terms,  or  more  content  under*  the  relation-hip  existing  be- 
tween them  ;  and,  rejoiced  as  she  wai  under  such  a  state  of  atl'airs, 
Mrs.  Bertram  silently  confirmed  the  judgment  she  had  at  first  ren- 
dered— tliat  the  whole  matter  was  altogether  strange  and  unaccount- 
able! 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS.  209 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  summer  vacation  of Seminary  was  most  enthusiastically 

welcomed  by  the  young  ladies  within  its  monotonous  walls,  and  by 
none  more  so  than  by  Julie  Kelley,  and  her  friend,  Rose  Sandford, 
who  were  to  pass  the  entire  season  at  Niagara,  in  accordance  with 
the  arrangement  made  for  the  preceding  summer  when  Julie  had 
been  summoned  home  by  the  illness  of  her  father. 

Young,  beautiful,  and  naturally  of  a  gay  disposition,  it  was  not 
unnatural  that  she  welcomed  such  a  sojourn  with  delight,  as  it  is 
only  at  a  more  mature  age  that  one  reflects  how  seldom  one's  bright 
anticipations  are  realized. 

Stopping  at  the  Clifton  House,  the  very  noise  and  bustle  of  hotel 
life  during  the  fashionable  season  had  its  charm  for  the  two  young 
girls,  just  released  from  the  quiet  routine  of  school  life,  and  each  in- 
tensified the  enjoyment  of  the  other  by  the  manifestation  of  her  own. 

Despite  the  sombru  hue  of  the  garments  she  still  wore  in  memory 
of  her  father,  it  would  have  seemed  a  want  of  hai  rnony  in  one  so 
piquant  and  pretty  not  to  have  joineel  in  the  gayety  around  her ; 
and  she  did  enter  into  it  with  all  the  zest  natural  to  her  age  and 
temperament,  while  Mrs.  Saudford  rejoiced  that  she  was  the  chape- 
rone  of  two  young  ladies  so  gay  and  attractive  as  her  daughter  and 
her  friend. 

Mr.  Sandford,  although  a  business  man  in  the  strictest  accepta- 
tion of  the  term,  was  a  most  genial  specttttor  of  the  usual  watering- 
place  life  when  he  was  present;  but  this  was  only  at  stated  intervals, 
and  while  lie  was  absent  superintending  his  business  affairs,  his  wife 
remained  sole  guaidian  of  the  two  young  ladies.  Had  any  one  in- 
sinuated to  Mrs.  Sandford  that  she  was  not  the  most  judicious  guar- 
dian possible,  she  would  have  resented  it  as  warmly  and  conscien- 
tiously as  would  Mr.  Sandford  himself,  to  whom  such  an  idea  had 
never  occurred.  Although"  no  longer  young,  the  natural  romance 
of  her  character  warped  her  judgment  in  one  essential  particular, 
and  that  the  most  unfortunate  for  those  committed  to  her  care. 


210  THE  HOUSE  EEHTXD   THE  POPLAHS. 

Easily  approached  unclrr  any  formality  of  etiquette,  introductions 
(o  her  were  attainable  by  any  and  all  who  solicited  them,  and  in 
each  masculine  acquaintance  she  saw  one  more  candidate  f<.r  the 
favor  of  her  protege?,  or  appreciator  of  her  own  sickly  sentimentali- 
ty and  rather  faded  charms.  Had  not  Rose  possessed  more  good 
sense  and  discretion  thnn  her  mother,  they  would  very  soon  have 
become  the  centre  of  a  circle  of  such  adventurers  as  always  frequent 
these  places  of  fashionable  resort ;  ar.d  as  it  was,  Mrs.  Sandford's 
circle  was  anything  but  exclusive. 

Shrewd  as  Mr.  Sandf  >rd  was  in  business  affiirs,  he  had  no  per- 
ception of  this  weakness  in  Ids  wife's  character;  but,  the  rather, 
seeing  her  always  surrounded  by  people  of  the  most  fastidious  gen- 
tility, and  the  two  girls  well  supplied  with  partners,  he  gave  her 
credit  for  the  greatest  amount  of  tact  and  good  management  in  so- 
cial matters,  amid  which  he  was  totally  at  sea. 

If  it  ever  occurred  to  him  during  his  visits  when  he  at  each  time 
noted  the  extension  of  her  ci  clc,  that  nine  in  ten  of  these  gallant 
young  gentlemen  were  not  the  most  flesh-able  companions  for  the 
young  ladies,  he  baaished  the  fastidious  idea,  relying  upon  the  good 
sense  of  his  daughter  and  her  friend,  and  reflecting  that,  after  all, 
these  were  but  watering-place  acquaintances,  very  unlikely  ever  to 
be  nv.-t  again,  and  no  serious  consequences  would  occur  from  a  few 
evenings  waltzing  with  them,  if  they  were  not  exactly  mental  New- 
tons.  If  among  them  all  one  should  by  bare  possibility  seek  a  more 
lasting  companionship,  it  would  be  time  enough  then  to  canvass  his 
merit7,  social  an  1  moral;  and  meantime  no  one  should  expect  or 
wish  Rose  and  Julie  to  remain  mere  wall-flowers  in  such  an  assem- 
blage. 

"  School  life  must  be  irksome  enough  to  such  bright  and  lively 
young  things  as  they ;  let  them  make  the  mo-t  of  their  holidays,'' 
the  kind  hearted  old  gentleman  said  to  himself  when  these  ideas 
now  and  then  obtruded  themselves  upon  his  mind ;  and  he  gave  no 
utterance  to  them. 

Among  the  numerous  gallnnts  thus  admitted  into  their  circle,  was 
one  who  attracted  particular  attention  by  his  handsome  exterior  and 
polished  manners,  and  who,  judging  from  all  appearance?,  was  an 
espechl  fivorite  with  Mrs.  Sanclford,  if  not  with  the  pretty  Julie  to 
whom  he  paid  most  devotod  attention  upon  all  occasions. 

This  gentleman  was  no  longer  in  the  first  flush  of  youth,  as  was 
Julie  herself;  at  the  first  glance  one  would  have  pronounced  him 
thirty  at  least,  though  in  reality  he  was  something  less;  and  1m 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   Hit;   POPLARS.  211 

most  striking  characteristic  was  a  dignified  yet  half  defiant  hauteur, 
which  in  one  loss  thoroughly  well-bred  and  self-possessed  would 
have  seemed  a  sort  of  recklessness,  if  not  positive  impudence.  Tall 
in  stature,  and  possessing  a  figure  of  perfect  elegance,  there  was  a 
ceitain  «ir  of  assurance  accompanying  his  most  trivial  actions,  that 
carried  with  it  that  social  passport  inseparable  from  people  of  the 
highest  birlh  and  position,  which  whether  false  or  true,  served  the 
purpose  for  which  it  was  exercised,  and  what  in  another  might  at 
once  have  been  pronounced  intrusion,  was  from  him  accepted  as  a 
condescension  which  secured  him  a  welcome  into  the  coteries  he 
chose  to  favor  with  his  presence. 

Thus,  though  he  was  upon  terms  of  polite  intercourse  with  most 
eligible  circles  in  the  drawing-room,  none  could  definitely  have  ex- 
plained how  he  became  so,  nor  upon  just  whose  responsibility  he 
was  thus  received  among  them ;  and  thus  easily  admitted  into  more 
exclusive  circles,  it  was  not  surprising  that  he  had  gained  the  entree 
to  Mrs.  Sandford's  room  soon  after  that  lady  established  herself  in  the 
house,  where,  from  the  very  first,  he  allowed  it  to  be  seen  that  Julie 
Kelley  was  the  object  which  attracted  him  and  kept  him  a  fixture 
forever  near  her. 

A  younger,  less  worldly-experienced  admirer  would  delicately  have 
attempted  to  shield  this  penchant  from  the  gossiping  tongues  around 
them ;  and  Julie's  sensitive  modesty  led  her  more  than  once  to  pro- 
test against  this  too  publicly  offered  devotion.  But,  young  and 
yielding,  as  is  every  woman  where  her  heart  is  interested,  she  ceased 
her  protests  under  his  earnestly  offered  excuses  plead  with  that  per- 
suasive eloquence  natural  to  such  circumstances  ;  and  Mrs.  Sandford 
followed  it  up  with  encomiums  upon  his  honest,  frank  manliness  of 
deportment  in  pursuing  so  unmistakable  a  course,  till  she  was  con- 
vinced that  she  was  most  unreasonable  in  wishing  for  anything  more 
delicate  and  in  consonance  w:th  her  own  ideas  and  predilections. 

Naturally  somewhat  coquettish,  as  is  every  pretty  woman  in  her 
early  youth,  Julie  never  thought  of  practising  upon  the  self-assured 
Leonard  Horton  the  teasing  arts  and  wiles  to  which  she  would  have 
subjected  a  younger  and  less  imposing  admirer,  but  treated  him  with 
a  tender  respect  and  trusting  confidence  of  manner  all  the  more 
dangerous  for  the  species  of  veneration  she  felt  toward  him  as  one 
so  far  her  superior  in  worldly  tact  and  experience,  and  that  undufin- 
able  fascination  he  had  from  the  first  exercised  over  her. 

There  certainly  was  a  nameless  so. nothing — magnetism  perhaps — 
in  the  soft  black  eyes  that  possessed  such  a  wondrous  power  of  speech, 


212  THK  HOUSE  BEI11ND  TllK  1'OI'LAKS. 

mofe  forcible  and  persuasive  than  any  eloquence  of  audible  words ; 
and  Julie  yielded  tender  allegiance  to  their  commands,  while  each 
approving  ray  from  their  luminous  depths  made  her  heart  throb 
quicker,  and  the  rosy  color  sprang  into  her  cheek  of  purest  blonde 
and  most  exquisite  contour.  Vivacious  and  sprightly  as  she  \vas, 
this  soft  obedience  to  his  caprice  possessed  an  irresistible  charm  for 
Leonard  Horton,  and  calm  as  he  affected  to  be  under  it,  he  thrilled 
with  exultation  and  gratified  self-love  as  he  noted  the  change  that 
came  over  her  when  he  approached  her  in  her  most  vivacious  mo- 
ments, and  how  intuitively  others  felt  themselves  de  trap,  and  drop- 
ped away  from  his  all  conquering  presence. 

Not  one  warning  whisper  cautioned  her  against  thus  admitting 
into  her  heart  one  so  utterly  unknown ;  for,  exultant  at  thus  having 
secured  "  a  settlement "  in  prospective  for  her  temporary  protegee, 
Mrs.  Sandford  did  not,  herself,  once  question  its  perfect  desirability, 
and  enjoyed  in  anticipation  the  felicitations  to  which  she  deemed 
such  chaperoneship  entitled  her.  Of  course,  should  Julie's  mother 
and  guardians  be  foolishly  exigent  upon  matters  of  which  society 
takes  little  or  no  cognizance,  they  must  satisfy  themselves  relative 
to  his  moral  qualifications.  Her  agency  extended  no  farther  than 
in  bringing  affairs  on  to  this  denouement,  and  she  prided  herself  upon 
the  rapidity  with  which  it  had  been  accomplished.  In  her  estima- 
tion, Leonard  Horton  was  by  far  the  most  eligible  parti  she  had  met 
— handsome,  accomplished,  and  reported  wealthy  r  and  it  had  been 
the  desire  of  her  heart  to  secure  him  for  her  daughter.  But  Rose 
was  refractory,  and  pronounced  him  disagreeable,  utterly  refusing  to 
make  one  effort  to  attract  him ;  and  as  he  himself  had  preferred  to 
bestow  his  attentions  upon  Julie,  it  only  remained  to  glory  in  this 
as  the  next  desirable  consummation.  Plainly  perceiving  these 
mental  self-congratulations,  Leonard  Horton  skillfully  pandered  to 
the  spirit  that  conceived  them,  till,  from  having  iavored  the  marriage, 
she  openly  encouraged  it ;  and  her  opinion  was  not  without  its  in- 
fluence over  Julie,  pre-disposed  as  she  was  to  suspend  her  judgment 
and  listen  only  to  feeling. 

Thus  satisfactory  to  ail  parties  interested,  were  affairs  progress- 
ing, when  a  disturbing  element  appeared  upon  the  scene,  in  the 
form  of  Miss  Phebe  Vennrd,  who,  with  a  party  of  her  southern 
friends,  arrived  to  spend  the  fashionable  season  at  the  Falls.  Di- 
rectly it  became  noised  about  that  this  not  too  personally  attractive 
young  lady  was  an  heiress,  rumor  increasing  and  exaggerating  the 
sum  of  her  possessions,  as  rumor  is  famous  for  doing,  till  it  reached 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  213 

a  mo^.  fabulous  amount.  Under  this  prestige,  Miss  Phebe's  rather 
siout,  short  figure,  appeared  only  desirably  "plump,"  her  foolish 
t\vaddle  was  only  "naivett"  and  her  frequent  outbreaks  of  ill-tem- 
per were  only  "spirited  and  refreshing;"  as  all  her  satellites  de- 
clared. From  her  own  confessions,  people  soon  learned  that  she 
was  an  authore-s,  and  as  she  modestly  refused  naming  and  enumer- 
ating her  literary  productions,  curiosity  became  vividly  excited,  and 
all  the  assembled  anonymous  novels  were  industriously  read  and  in- 
terchanged, in  the  hope  of  stumbling  upon  something  that  should 
identify  them  as  hers.  An  heiress  and  an  authoress,  Miss  Phebe's 
notoriety  was  established  at  once,  and  she  reigued  triumphant. 
Admirers  gathered  around  her,  ceaseless  ovations  were  offered  up  to 
her. 

For  the  first  time  Leonard  Horton's  attentions  were  divided  be- 
tween Julie  and  another,  and  he,  too,  followed  the  new  star.  Too 
proud  to  manifest  the  uneasiness  and  misery  it  caused  her,  Julie 
smiled  upon  others  in  his  absence,  and  the  immediate  accession  to 
the  number  of  aspirants  for  his  favor,  evidenced  how  significant  Mr. 
Horton's  heretofore  exclusive  addresses  had  been  considered. 

One  evening  soon  after  Miss  Phebe's  arrival,  Rose  Sandford 
watched  her  opportunity  and  whispered  to  Julie. 

"I  hare  been  presented  to  the  heiress.  '  Beauty,  talent,  and 
money,'  you  must  make  her  acquaintance." 

There  was  a  mirthful  glitter  in  Rose's  eyes,  that  uttered  its  own 
c  jinnicnt,  and  with  a  smile  Julie  shook  her  head.  Rose  expostu- 
la'evl  more  earnestly,  "  Oh,  I  don't  see  how  you  are  to  avoid  it.  Mr. 
Ilorfon  has  promised  to  introduce  you  since  I  was  condemned  to  go 
through  the  operation.  It  is  '  Beauty's  request  of  the  Beast,'  whom 
I  suppose  &he  feels  guilty  for  appropriating,  or  perhaps  she  wants 
to  snap  your  head  off  and  so  make  a  clean  job  of  it.  She  has  a 
temper  of  her  own,  I  can  tell  you." 

"Memorandum — make  her  exhibit  it  upon  the  first  mal-apropos 
occasion.  Tell  me  something  more,"  laughed  Juli'-. 

"  Hush,  here  comes  Mr.  Horton.  Don't  be  overwhelmed,  now,  by 
the  brilliant  scintillations  of  this  renowned  damsel's  wit.  My  opin- 
ion is  th\t  her  gold  is  the  only  bright  thing  about  her,  and  I  don't 
believe  there's  too  much  of  that  to  be  scoured  every  day  by  what 
she  calls  her  '  niggers.' " 

Mr.  Horton  approached  with  Mrs.  Sandford  simpering  upon  his 
arm,  and  with  bland  courtesy  addressed  Julie. 

'•  I  want  to  present  you  to  Miss  Venartl,  Julie.     I  am  about  to  in- 


214  THE  HOUSE  BEEIXD  THE  POPLARS. 

troduce  Mrs.  Sandford,  as  she  particularly  wishes  to  know  you  all. 
She  asserts,  Julie,  that  you  bear  an  actual  resemblance  to  a  very  dear 
fiiend  of  hers  in  the  South,  to  whom  she  insists  you  must  be  related." 

"Oh,  don't  take  me  relation  hunting,  I  beg  of  you  '  I  should  be 
quite  frightened  at  the  very  idea,  did  I  not  know  that  beside  my 
dear  mother  I  have  not  a  relative  in  existence.  Please  tell  her  so, 
and  spare  me  the  trouble.  1  want  to  dance  this  next  polka." 

"I  hope,  Julie,  you  d)  not  refuse  to  receive  an  introduction  I  ex- 

I  pressly  wish  you  to  grant,  and  have  even  promised  in  your  name," 

lie  said  reproachfully.     She  colored  slightly,  but  made  no  gesture  of 

compliance  ;  and  extending  her  hand  Mrs.  Sandford  said  with  mild 

authority, 

"  Of  course  she  does  not  refuse.  That  would  be  unpardonable 
under  the  circumstances,  and  quite  ill-advised.  Besides,  it  is  always 
well  to  know  people  who  are  distingue.  It  gives  one  social  import- 
ance. Come,  my  dear." 

Thus  adjured,  Julie  arose,  and  in  some  pique  accepted  Mr.  Hor- 
ton's  disengaged  arm.  Miss  Phebe  was  impatiently  awaiting  them. 

Mrs.  Sandford  graced  her  presentation  with  one  of  her  set  compli- 
mentary speeches,  which  Miss  Phebe  received  with  a  stare  of  blank 
amazement,  and  then  turned  abruptly  to  Julie. 

"  Do  tell  me,  Miss  Kelley,  are  you  any  way  related  to  Lhb  Sterling, 
formerly  of  Louisville  ?  You  look  enough  like  him  to  be  his  sister.7' 

"He  is  my  guardian,  but  I  had  no  idea  there  existed  any  resem- 
blance between  us,  till  Mr.  Horton  informed  me  that  you  had  dis- 
covered one." 

"  I  didn't  say  anything  of  the  sort  to  him.  I  never  once  mentioned 
Lisle  Sterling's  name,  did  I  Mr.  Horton  ?  I  merely  said  you  looked 
Uke  a  '  friend.'  " 

"  '  A  very  dear  fiend,'  corrected  Mr.  Horton  with  a  visible  effort 
to  appear  careless  and  only  playfully  interested.  Julie  observed 
his  changing  color,  and  attributed  it  to  a  real  uneasiness  at  Miss 
Venar.l  having  thus  familiarly  spoken  of  one  who  might  possibly  be 
a  rival  in  the  young  lady's  interest;  and  the  same  thought  occurred 
to  Miss  Phebe  heraelf,  very  evidently;  for  playfully  tapping  his  arm 
with  her  fan  she  said, 

"  How  you  gentlemen  all  do  love  each  other  !  A  lady  can't  speak 
to  one  of  you  about  another,  without  pitting  you  against  each  other 
at  once." 

"  Dear  me,  what  else  can  be  expected,"  simpered  Mi  s.  Sandford 
sentimentally.  "  I  recollect  how  poor  dear  Mr.  Sandford,  the  most 


THE   HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  215 

amiable  man  that  ever  lived,  used  to  frown  and  make  himself  look 
ugly  if  I  so  much  as  smiled  upon  any  other  gentlemen  ;  and  if  I 
went  so  far  as  to  waltz  with  one,  dear  me  how  he  would  go  on  !  They 
are  all  alike,  Miss  Venard,  and  all  quite  tyrannical  before  marriage, 
whatever  they  may  become  afterward.  To  be  sure,  you  arc-  not  Mr. 
Ilorton's  financee ;  so  he  has  no  occasion  to  be  jealous  of  your  '  very 
dear'  gentlemen  friends." 

Mr.  Horton  turned  toward  Julie  whose  impatience  was  manifest. 

"I  think  you  told  me  you  intended  to  dance  this  polka.  Shall  I 
take  you  to  your  partner  ?  Miss  Venard  will  excuse  us." 

"  I  have  no  partner;  it  was  a  mere  excuse," she  rather  curtly  ex- 
plained as  they  moved  away ;  but  without  heeding  the  assertion  he 
said, 

"  So  this  Mr.  Lisle  Sterling,  of  whom  Miss  Venard  speaks,  is  your 
guardian?  I  fancied  you  the  ward  of  Mrs.  Sandford." 

"Oh,  no.  She  was  kind  enough  to  ask  me  to  accompany  Rose 
here  this  summer ;  that  is  all.  We  were  to  have  come  last  year,  but 
poor  pa's  sickness  and  death  prevented  me,  and  I  feel  quite  guilty 
now,  when  I  think  how  1  nely  ma  must  be  without  me,  and  Edward 
with  her  but  little  of  the  time." 

"  And  who  is  '  Edward  ?'    Your  brother  ?" 

"  In  a  manner,  as  he  has  lived  with  us  for  years.  He  is  my  guar- 
dian's brother,  Edward  Sterling,  and  both  brothers  were  great  fa- 
vorites of  pa's." 

"  And  do  you  really  resemble  this  Lisle  Sterling,  as  Miss  Venard 


"Nonsense.  Descriptions  of  all  persons  with  dark  blue  eyes, 
chfsinut  hair,  &c.,  sound  So  nearly  alike,  that  it  is  nothing  strange 
if  the  owners  of  them  now  and  then  look  not  unlike.  I  fancy  the 
lady's  only  apology  for  so  astonishing  a  discovery,  was  her  wish  to 
render  you  uneasy  about  her  'very  de>ir'  acquaintance." 

"  Julie,  I  don't  think  you  care  to  dance,  in  such  a  humor.  Shall 
we  go  out  upon  the  veranda?''  he  asked,  seeing  that  she  was  really 
pique.l. 

She  assented,  and  as  they  passed  near  Miss  Venard  she  caught  a 
glance  from  that  young  lady,  for  which  she  was  prepared,  as  she 
had  marked  a  rising  frown  upon  her  face  when  she  and  Mr.  Horton 
had  turned  away. 

"I  think  Miss  Venard  would  like  a  partner,"  she  said,  calling  hi3 
attention  to  that  lady's  manifest  displeasure,  and  not  unwilling  to 
show  her  own  indifference  to  his  society  at  that  moment.  He 
laughed. 


-'G  THE   DOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

"I  think  I  should  not  like  to  be  that  partner  for  a  round  dance. 
She  weighs  too  much  by  a  cool  fifty." 

"  How  hypocritical  gentlemen  are.  I  dare  say  you  have  compli- 
mcated  her  forty  times  upon  the  possession  of  that  same  '  cool 
fifty !' " 

"  Julie,  you  are  piqued — may  I  even  say  jealous,  I  wonder !" 
"  I  see  nothing  for  you  to  wonder  at.    I  never  professed  to  be 
anything  more  or  less  than  human,"  she  replied  with  a  total  lack  of 
that  tender  veneration  she  had  ever  before  manifested  toward  him. 
He  was  both  surprised  and  amused  at  the  change,  as  a  touch  of 
feminine  spirit  was  not  distasteful  to  him  ;  and  he  bent  his  eyes  ad- 
miringly upon  her,  to  the  evident  heightening  of  her  color.     But 
both  her  shame  of  herself,  and  her  resentment  against  him,  were 
soou  lost  to  him  under  a  stronger  emotion  which  found  expression 
in  a  query  whose  troubled  tone  aroused  her. 

"  This  guardian  of  yours,  Julie,  will  he  conic  here  this  summer 
during  your  stay,  perhaps  carry  you  off  with  him  where  you  will  be 
lost  to  familiar  eyes — at  least  mine — forever  ?" 

"  Hardly  possible.  He  is  so  complete  a  Southerner  that  I  doubt 
if  he  will  ever  come  north  again.  He  made  such  a  vow,  and  fre- 
quently  repeated  it  the  last  time  he  was  here;  and  certainly  his  own 
borne  is  too  uncongenial  to  attract  him.  None  of  his  letters  indi- 
cate that  he  has  changed  his  mind  upon  the  subject.  As  for  my 
going  to  him,  guardian  as  he  is,  the  idea  is  preposterous,  unless,  in- 
deed, he  should  marry,  which  is  quite  improbable." 

"  I  don't  know  that.  These  cynical,  affected  woman-haters,  nro 
even  more  liable  to  be  entrapped  by  most  any  woman  with  tact 
enough  to  seem  a  rara  avis  among  her  sex.  Who  knows  but  that 
may  be  you,  Julie?" 

The  memory  of  her  own  delusion  upon  this  point  lent  a  convinc- 
ing earnestness  to  the  tone  in  "which  she  replied, 

'•  Xo,  quite  impossible.  We  have  always  been  more  like  brother 
and  tister,  and  always  must  be.  But  who  told  you  he  is  a  woman- 
hater." 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  years  ago  I  knew  him ;  and  I  don't  sup- 
pose he  has  very  mu^h  changed.  He  is  not  one  of  the  kind  who  do 
change." 

"You  knew  him?  Where?"  She  asked  the  question  with  sur- 
prise as  well  as  curiosity,  and  he  could  not  conceal  that  it  troubled 
him.  However,  sooner  or  later  she  must  know  the  whole ;  self-in- 
terest demanded  it ;  and  he  resolved  not  to  lose  so  good  an  oppor- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAB8.  217 

tunity.  Throwing  into  his  voice  and  whole  manner  a  soft  melan- 
choly well  calculated  to  excite  compassion  in  a  heart  that  loved 
him,  he  sighed, 

"  It  is  a  piteous  story,  little  Julie.  I  dare  not  tell  it  even  to  you, 
lest  you  too,  turn  against  me." 

"  Never,''  she  uttered  earnestly  with  a  closer  clasp  of  the  arm 
upon  which  she  leaned  as  they  slowly  promenaded  the  veranda. 

He  looked  in  her  face  with  feigned  incredulity. 

"Not  even  though  that  tale  affix  its  share  of  blame  and  folly  upon 
me — a  blame  not  so  deep  as  it  at  first  appears,  a  folly  of  which  I  re- 
pent as  sincerely  as  ineffectually  ?  Oh,  impossible !  This  world  has 
no  forgiving  pity  for  the  unfortunate  who  brings  his  own  suffering 
upon  himself,  however  goaded  hy  circumstances.  A  life  of  sorrowing 
repentance  cannot  wipe  out  an  error  committed  in  a  misguided  mo- 
meut ;  not  even  gentle  hearts  like  yours  ever  excuse  his  error,  despite 
all  the  atonement  he  can  offer !  Oh,  Julie,  pity  me,  for  I  need  all 
your  sweet  compassion." 

"It is  yours,  dear  Leonard,  be  assured.  But  trust  me  with  this 
sorrowful  story,  will  you  not  ?  I  do  not  ask  it  in  mere  curiosity,  as 
you  must  know." 

"  Do  you  then  love  me — a  little — miserable  that  I  am  ?  Uudei 
brighter  circumstances  would  you  have  been,  perhaps,  my  wife? 
Tell  me  this,  Julie." 

"Not  'under  brighter  circumstances,'  Leonard,  but  under  any, 
all." 

He  pressed  her  hand  with  rapturous  fervor,  as  he  exclaimed, 

"  Dear  little  comforter !  But  first  let  me  tell  this  sad  story — a 
confession,  as  it  is,  which  I  never  could  humiliate  myself  enough  to 
make  to  any  mortal  but  yourself.  Oh,  Julie — listen — two  words  will 
tell  it  all — I  am  not '  Leonard  Horton  ' — but — " 

"But  who?"  she  asked  in  breathless  eagerness. 

"  Louis  Hartley." 

She  stopped,  aghast  at  the  revelation,  and  he  continued  bitterly, 

"  Yes,  he  whom  you  have  heard  denounced  as  a  swindler,  an  in- 
grate,  a  thief  who  fled  at  night  from  the  coffer  he  had  robbed !  I  can 
imagine  all  the  vituperations  heaped  upon  my  head.  Lisle  Sterling 
never  failed  to  mete  out  justice  according  to  his  own  idea  of  it,  and 
Christian  charity  isn't  a  weakness  of  his !" 

"  Oh,  unjust,  cruel  to  yourself!  I  never  heard  him  utter  one  such 
bitter  word  of  you !  He  left  us  immediately  upon  the  receipt  of  his 
uncle's  letter  detailing  the  affair,  and  your  name  scarcely  passed  his 


218  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAES. 

lips.  Even  Mr.  Fitzjamcs  forgave  you,  and  in  his  will,  made  about 
that  time,  bequeathed  you  the  amount  you  had — appropriated — that 
so  the  matter  might  be  forever  sot  at  rest.  I  suppose  you  know  this 
and  that  Lisle  was  made  heir  to  all  the  rest  of  his  uncle's  property  ? 
J  believe  it  was  established  that  you  had  acquired  possession." 

"  Oh  yes.  All  due  formalities  were  observed — as  I  said,  Sterling 
always  administers  justice  according  to  his  idea  of  it.  I  did  not  care 
to  'enter  an  appearance'  in  ac  ordance  with  the  published  citation, 
and  so  submit  myself  to  the  chances  of  a  prosecution  to  gratify  the 
defrauded  heir's  private  malice.  I  needed  the  sum  thus  ensured  to 
me,  and  I  kept  it ;  but  I  always  intended  to  refund  his  half  of  that 
which  I  had  appropriated  from  the  profits  of  our  co-partnership,  and 
I  still  do  so  intend.  More  than  ever,  now  that  I  know  he  is  your 
guardian,  I  will  leave  him  no  reason  to  complain  of  me.  I  shall  re- 
pay as  a  loan  that  of  which  the  whole  might  have  been  as  much 
mine  as  his,  had  a  formal  settlement  been  made  between  us.  After 
all,  the  whole  capital  belonged  to  Mr.  Fitzjamcs.  since  neither  Ster- 
ling nor  I  had  a  dollar  to  invest;  but  as  he  is  left  sole  heir,  I  have 
no  doubt  he  looks  upon  the  bequest  left  me  as  so  much  taken  from 
himself,  and  I  will  keep  only  my  business  share  of  it." 

''  But  since  it  is  really  yours  by  bequest — 

"  I  tell  you  no.  I  know  just  what  proportion  of  it  is  mine  by  the 
terms  of  that  co-partnership  existing  when  I  took  it,  and  the  rest 
shall  be  returned  to  him.  I  should  have  restored  it  ere  this,  but  one 
hope  after  another  has  mocked  niy  efforts,  and  I  am  still  his  debtor. 
Now  tell  me,  Julie ;  when  I  shall  have  made  this  atonement,  will  you 
forgive  the  weakness  of  which  I  was  guilty  under  a  temptation  too 
strong  to  be  resisted  ?" 

"  That  temptation — what  can  it  have  been !" 

"  Do  not  ask  me  that.  You  can  never  know.  There  are  events 
in  my  life  that  I  cannot  tell  even  you.  I  have  confessed  my  wrong 
doing,  and  avowed  my  penitence.  Is  not  that  enough  ?  Forgive 
me  all.  Julie." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  judge 
you." 

"  And  your  love,  Julie — can  you  tell  me  that  it  still  is  mine,  that 
you  will  under  these  circumstances  become  my  wife,  as  you  were  ready 
to  promise  so  short  a  time  since." 

"  Y.es.  I  will.  I  do  believe  that  you  are  truly  repentant,  that  you 
wish  to  make  a  most  generous  atonement  for  your  error,  and  th:itfc 
you  deserve  not  only  pardon  for  it,  but  =ymvnthy  for  the  suffering  i 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  219 

lias  caused  you.  How  could  you  fear  that  I  might  be  ungenerous — 
worse,  unjust — toward  you!" 

"  Disappointment  has  been  my  lot  all  through  my  life.  It  is  enough 
that  I  dare  hope  for  anything,  to  make  it  fail  me.  So  will  you,  yet, 
Julie,  despite  your  present  thought.  The  very  idea  that  you  are  the 
t\\Qfianc£e  of  one  who  dare  not  claim  his  own  name  lest  public  dis- 
grace befall  him,  will  weary  and  harass  you;  yet  I  must  endure  this 
burden,  and  inflict  it  upon  you,  till  all  danger  of  prosecution  from 
Lisle  Sterling  is  over.  I  must  trust  to  you  to  soften  his  heart  toward 
me,  for  I  am  powerless.  He  never  liked  me,  from  the  very  first,  and 
it  was  our  mutual  rivalry  for  Mr.  Fitzjames'  favor,  that  made  me  fear 
to  trust  the  old  gentleman  with  the  trouble  that  goaded  me  on  to 
the  deed  by  which  I  lost  it  forever.  Sterling  has  triumphed  over 
me;  he  stands  to  day  in  the  place  I  should  have  occupied  but  for 
him  and  his  scheming ;  and  for  that  very  thing  he  will  be  relentless 
toward  me.  Suppose,  J*tte,  that  as  your  guardian  he  forbids  our 
marriage !" 

She  did  not  immediately  reply,  and  he  made  a  gesture  of  impa- 
tience as  he  said  bitterly, 

"  So,  wavering  already  !  You  will  sacrifice  yourself  and  me  to  the 
'  duty '  of  blind  obedience ;  or,  hearing  me  unceasingly  denounced 
by  those  whom  it  is  more  natural  that  you  should  trust,  you  will  tell 
me  that  you  were  '  mistaken  in  your  sentiments,  did  not  know  your 
own  heart,'  and  all  the  rest  of  the  feminine  excuses  for  broken  faith. 
I  prophesy  it  all." 

"  I  never  break  faith.  My  promise  once  given  is  sacred  forever," 
she  answered  quietly  and  with  dignified  reproach  for  his  taunting 
words. 

"Forever,  come  what  may.  Shall  nothing  cause  you  to  violate 
it?'' 

"  How  little  you  trust  and  believe  in  me  ?" 

"  But,  Julie,  swear  it.  Swear  it  and  I  shall  trust  hi  you  to  the 
cle .ith  !" 

"  Well,  I  swear  it.    Foolish  doubter,  be  content !" 

"  I  am,  I  am !  Oh,  Julie,  lov^  makes  me  a  skeptic,  bear  with  mej 
But  if  your  guardian  oppose  us '' 

"  I  will  give  him  no  opportunity,  if  he  remain  unjust  and  relent- 
less toward  you,  after  you  have  made  him  every  reparation  possible. 
What  you  propose  is  more  than  justice  towards  him,  it  is  magna- 
nimity ;  and  if,  after  that,  he  continues  obdurate,  as  you  prophesy,  I 
will  fulfill  my  promise  though  I  walk  through  fire  to  accomplish  it. 


220  THE  HOUSE  BEHLND  THE  POPLARS. 

Nothing  short  of  crime  shall  separate  us.    Do  you  see  that  it  is 
fixed  ?" 

"  Oh,  Julie,  what  can  I  say  to  you  ?  "Wait  patiently,  dear  girl,  till 
I  can  make  this  restoration  as  the  starting  point  to  win  his  approba- 
tion. Give  me  time." 

"  Ah,  indeed  ;  if  I  were  rich,  now,  like  Miss  Venard  !    She  would 
never  miss  so  small  a  sum,  while  it  would  more  than  swallow  uiy 
worldly  possessions  were  I  even  yet  mistress  of  them.     Five  thou-f 
sand  dollars  !     I  have  not  so  much  in  the  world  !     Ob,  if  Lisle  only 
will  forgive  and  understand  you  !" 

"He  never  will,  I  tell  you.  My  heart  sank  when  I  heard  you  speak 
his  name." 

Mrs.  Sandford  appeared  upon  the  veranda  in  search  of  them. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Horto;i,  you  thoughtless  man,  to  keep  this  dear  child 
out  so  long,  after  dancing !  You  will  have  her  in  a  consumption  at 
this  rate," 

"I  will  take  her  directly  in,  Mrs.  Sandford.  She  has  just  given 
me  a  right  to  watch  over  and  protect  her.  Give  me  your  congratu- 
lations." 

They  were  rapturously  uttered ;  and  when  he  left  them  for  the 
night  he  said  exultingly,  "  So  far,  so  good  !  Eventually  she  must 
have  known  it  all,  and  there  is  everything  in  a  first  hearing. 
Henceforth  any  denunciations  Lisle  Sterling  may  utter  against  me, 
will  seem  so  much  persecution.  Strange  that  he  is  her  guardian !" 


TUB  HOUSE  BBTTIXD  THE   POPLARS.  221 


CHAPTER  XX.  ' 

"  I  DECLARE,  Julia,  if  I  were  you  I'd  put  a  stop  to  Leonard  Horton's 

flirtation  with  Miss  Venard,"  exclaimed  Rose  Sandford  resentfully, 
as  the  two  were  seated  one  morning  tete  a  tete  over  their  embroid- 
ery. "  I  never  liked  him,  at  best,  with  his  fine  and  mighty  assump- 
tion of  superiority,  and  lord  knows  what  not  of  '  little  story ' 
stamped  all  over  him  ;  but  if  he  is  going  to  turn  gay  Lothario,  he 
will  be  more  unendurable  than  ever.  He  neglects  you  most  shame- 
fully for  her  benefit,  and  you  are  a  goose  to  suffer  it.  Everybody 
can  see  that  she  is  perfectly  befooled  after  him,  and  if  I  were  you  I'd 
know  why ! " 

"  Oh,  Rose,  don't  speak  so  hastily  about  what  you  don't  under- 
stand. See  how  easy  it  is  to  misjudge  one's  most  generous  ac- 
tion?. Since  he  learned  that  your  father  and  mother  are  not  my 
legal  guardians,  ns  he  first  very  naturally  supposed,  he  feels  that  it 
would  be  very  wrong  to  compromise  me  by  such  public  and  exclu- 
sive attentions  as  he  had  offered  me  when  he  supposed  their  saction 
was  sufficient  to  authorize  it." 

"So  he  fancies  that  he  betters  it  by  leading  every  one  to  think 
that  he  has  deserted  you,  and  that  for  a  silly  heiress  with  not  so 
much  brains  as  my  thimble !  She  kept  me  in  a  rage  all  last  evening 
by  her  ostentatious  assumption  of  triumph  over  you,  aud  the  mali- 
cious glances  of  exultation  she  kept  turning  upon  you  where  you 
were  pining  in  a  most  romantic,  and  to  me  vexatious  style.  What 
did  possess  you  1  Every  one  remarked  it  all." 

"  I  didn't  feel  like  dancing,  and  I  wouldn't ;  that  is  all.  I  care 
very  little  what  these  people  say  of  us  so  long  as  we  feel  that  we  are 
doing  right. 

" '  We  feel ! '  say  rather  that  Norton  prefers  a  certain  line  of  deport- 
ment, and  that  you  obediently  assent.  The  truth  is,  that  now  he 
thinks  he  has  you  all  safe  under  the  keeping  of  an  'engagement,' 
he  wants  a  chance  at  the  heiress;  and  you  meekly  walk  into  the 
trap.  It  may  all  be  very  amusing  to  him,  but  for  my  life  I  can't  seo 


222  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   1IIE   POPLARS. 

where  your  share  of  the  sport  comes  iii.  How  upon  earth  any  girl 
ns  sensible  as  you  are  upon  most  subjects,  can  be  such  a  simpleton 
where  he  is  concerned,  is  a  mystery !  If  he  but  looks  a  sovereign 
command,  you  obey,  while  his  airs  would  set  every  drop  of  blood  in 
my  veins  tingling  with  rebellion;  but  this  last  concession,  just  as 
you  have  the  right  to  interfere,  strikes  me  dumb." 

"  I  think,  rather,  it  unlocks  your  native  eloquence.  If  this  is  a 
fair  specimen  of  your  dumbness,  fate  forbid  you  should  burst  into 
speech  !"  Julie  retorted  laughingly. 

"  Confess  now,  are  you  perfectly  contented  under  this  state  of  af- 
fairs r 

She  did  not  immediately  reply,  but  it  was  evident  from  her  look 
and  manner,  that  however  loth  she  might  be  to  admit  it,  she  was 
learning  the  truth  that  however  a  woman  may  feel  constrained  to 
assent  to  the  wisdom  or  policy  of  her  lover  confining  his  attentions 
within  the  strict  bounds  of  workUy  prudence,  she  is  never  pleased 
to  see  him  bestow  any  portion  of  them  upon  her  rival,  or  one  who 
may  by  uny  possibility  become  so. 

Eose  saw  that  her  words  had  struck  a  sensitive  cord ;  and  added 
more  gently, 

u  It  wouldn't  so  much  matter,  if  he  hadn't  been  so  distressingly 
demonstrative  up  to  the  present,  that  every  one  formed  the  only 
natural  conclusion ;  but  as  he  can't  rub  out  this  conclusion  by  es- 
tablishing one  of  a  later  date,  it  wou'd  be  better  to  go  consistently 
and  quietly  on.  A  fiddlestick  for  all  these  fine  points  of  so  called 
honor,  and  the  rest  of  the  clap  trap !  If  you  are  positively  in  love 
with  each  other — as  I  suppose  you  are  or  you  wouldn't  be  engaged 
— what  do  you  care  for  the  '  sanction '  of  all  the  guardians  you  could 
cram  between  here  and  the  south  sea  islands  !  Nobody  ever  stops 
for  that,  if  they  once  really  make  up  their  minds,  however  they  may 
properly  affect  to.  Besides,  it  would  be  a  short-sighted  guardian 
who  would  advise  such  proceedings  as  these  under  the  present  cir- 
cumstances, whether  or  not  he  intended  to  '  give  his  consent '  in  the 
future.  Nobody  feels  either  compassion  or  respect  for  '  a  deserted.' 
Do  show  some  independence,  Julie !" 

"I  hit  nd  to  when  the  proper  time  comes." 

"  Oh,  of  coarse  you'll  conic  out  a  ttir'ar  when  you  are  really  mar- 
ried; that's  expected,  always !  But  what  I  mean  is,  tell  Horton 
you've  a  decided  objec'ion  to  being  made  to  '  wear  the  willow  '  in 
everybody's  estimation,  and  that  if  he  is  tired  of  playing  the  devoted 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  223 

to  you,  he  shan't  play  it  to  any  one  else,  at  least  in  your  very  pres- 
ence. That's  what  l\l  do !" 

Julie  laughed.  "  Well,  Rose,  you  never  will  have  to  reproach 
yourself  with  having  preached  '  obedience '  and  the  rest  of  it.  It  is 
no  match  of  your  making." 

"  No  ;  it  is  a  specimen  of  ma's  talent  in  that  direction.  Someway 
she  has  settled  in  her  own  mind  that  this  Leonard  Hortonis  a  great 
catch,  and  she's  preached  it  to  pa,  till  he,  dear  man,  has  come  to  be- 
lieve it  too.  But  even  poor  ma  has  the  sense  to  see  that  Ihis  sudden 
'  falling  off'  isn't  the  proper  thing,  and  she  has  told  everybody  she 
knows,  that  it  is  only  a  ruse  to  cover  an  engagement  which  you 
don't  wish  to  have  suspected." 

"  Oh,  Rose  ;  how  could  she  !  Why  won't  she  allow  us  to  manage 
our  own  affairs." 

"  Vou  never  have,  poor  child  !  Ma  made  the  match  from  the  be- 
ginning, ane  you  have  only  been  walking  lady  through  the  whole 
programme,  though  you  are  now  and  then  indulged  by  being  al- 
lowed to  believe  that  he  consults  your  wishes ;  that  is,  he  tells  you 
his,  and  you  fancy  that  the  same." 

For  the  first  time  Julie  became  angry,  and  she  exclaimed  with 
spirit, 

"  Rose,  hush !  I  won't  endure  it.  Why  don't  you  call  me  an 
idiot,  and  so  have  done  with  it!  That  is  the  whole  tenor  of  it,  and 
you'd  better  out  with  it." 

Rose  caught  her  in  her  arms,  and  returned  good  humoredly, 

"  I  know  you  are  not  an  idiot,  much  as  you  act  like  one  sometimes. 
I  suppose  this  is  the  natural  consequence  of  being  in  love,  as  every- 
body I've  seen  so,  cuts  up  in  about  the  same  fashion.  But  you  must 
know  I  am  your  real  guardian  here  ;  not  ma,  who  needs  a  mentor 
herself;  and  if  you  become  unmanageable,  I  shall  be  in  ill-luck.  I'm 
sure  this  is  your  first  real  lover — you  take  it  so  very  seriously !" 

"  And  you,  madame  Mentor.  Do  you  relate  your  experience," 
said  Julie,  laughing  again  at  what  seemed  a  ludicrous  assumption 
of  maturity  and  consequent  authority.  A  shade  of  vexation  dark- 
ened Rose's  face  as  she  answered, 

"Mere  school  girl  as  I  am,  this  is  the  third  season  I've  been  put 
up,  like  a  turkey  at  a  raffle,  for  whoever  chose  to  take  a  chance  for 
ma's  favor,  and  should  ere  this  have  been  '  madam '  had  I  not  proved 
that  1  had  some  voice  in  the  matter.  It  is  all  very  well  to  appreciate 
the  pretty  things  said  to  you,  but  to  turn  '  spooney '  under  it,  and 
go  off  in  a  fit  of  matrimony,  is  a  sorry  consequence,  from  which  I 


224  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLAKS. 

pray  to  be  delivered  !  I  wouldn't  marry  the  King  of  the  C;mnibal 
Islands,  even  to  be  Queen  and  dine  off  baby  roast  every  day  !  I'm 
sick  of  the  very  word  'matrimony' — for  which  let  all  men  give 
thanks!  Dear  ine,  there's  some  one  at  the  door,  and  late  as  it  is,  I'm 
not  dressed !" 

It  was  only  a  letter  for  Julie;  but  warned  by  the.  alarm,  Rose  com- 
menced rapidly  to  make  her  toilet,  and  did  not  look  around  till  a 
sob  from  Julie,  who  was  reading  her  letter,  arrested  her. 

"  Oh,  Rose,  Rose.  My  mother  is  dead — dead  and  buried  !  And 
no  one  sent  for  me,  or  even  \vrote  me  she  was  sick,!" 

Surprised  and  startled  by  the  abrupt  intelligence,  Rose  stood  with- 
out the  power  to  offer  one  word  of  sympathy  or  consolation,  and  Julie 
wept  on  convulsively.  At  length  a  feeling  of  anger  checked  her 
grief,  and  springing  to  her  feet  she  tore  Edward's  letter  in  piecea 
and  threw  them  upon  the  floor,  as  she  exclaimed, 

"  Cruel,  heartless !  to  leave  me  here  in  ignorance  that  my  own 
mother  was  dying  before  his  eyes.  I  never  will  forgive  him,  never !' 

"  Oh,  Julie,  don't  be  unjust;  there  may  have  been  some  good  rea- 
son for  it." 

"  Yes,  a  beautiful  reason  ;  that  she  had  been  ailing  for  more  than 
a  year — not  to  have  told  me  even  this  till  now — and  so  felt  no  alarm 
when  she  became  worse,  and  would  not  allow  my  enjoyment  to  be 
destroyed  by  it.  Edward,  who  is  a  sprouting  doctor,  must  have 
known  how  very  ill  she  was,  though  he  says  not.  Here  is  his  letter ; 
read  it  for  yourself.  I'll  fit  the  pieces." 

Rose  read  the  letter  thus  torn  and  fragmentary  as  it  was;  and 
deeply  as  she  felt  for  Julie  in  her  sorrow,  she  saw  nothing  in  it  but 
the  most  tender  consideration.  Edward  tenderly  spoke  of  Mrs. 
Kelley's  last  illness,  which  no  one  but  herself  had  considered  danger- 
ous till  the  very  last,  and  even  then,  when  he  would  have  summoned 
Julie,  she  had  forbidden  him  to  do  so,  urging  that  the  blow  would 
be  more  easily  endured  at  a  distanc  ',  and  enjoining  that  the  harrow- 
ing details  of  a  funeral  should  also  be  spared  her. 

It  was  a  only  proof  of  the  most  tender  and  protecting  love  for  tho 
poor  child,  who  in  witnessing  a  parent's  suffering  would  have  been 
all  powerless  to  save  ;  and  Mrs.  Kelley  had  sacrificed  her  own  desite 
to  see  her,  for  Julia's  own  peace.  Edward  added  that  he  should 
immediately  follow  his  letter,  to  be  of  any  service  to  her  that  she 
might  command,  as  his  one  wish  was  to  aid  and  console  her  in  their 
mutual  sorrow. 

Rose  gently  folded  the  fragments  of  the  letter,  and  handed  them 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAU9.  225 

back  in  silence.     Julie  looked  up  for  some  manifestation  of  her  own. 
resentment,  but  met  only  a  glance  of  pity  mingled  with  reproof. 

'•  Would  you  have  wished  your  mother's  last  request  to  have  been 
unheeded  ?  "  she  asked  gently ;  and  then  left  Julie  to  a  silence 
during  which  she  was  sure  the  voice  of  reason  would  be  heard. 

Utterly  at  a  loss  what  to  do  under  her  present  circumstances, 
Julie  waited  for  Edward  to  arrive,  before  even  attempting  to  decide. 
Her  one  overpowering  desire  was  to  leave  this  place,  whose  gayety 
j-irred  upon  her  very  heartstrings ;  but  where  could  she  go?  Not 
back  to  the  desolate  home,  all  hushed  and  silent  with  a  loneliness 
that  would  be  insupportable  in  all  the  newness  of  her  bereavement, 
— not  to  her  guardian,  whose  wifeless  home  offered  her  no  asylum 
which  the  critical  in  matters  of  social  propriety  might  not  cavil  at, 
young  as  they  both  were, — for,  even  to  herself,  that  secret  tie  of 
relationship  was  a  sealed  and  unsuspected  mystery.  In  all  the  wide 
world  nothing  like  a  home  seemed  open  to  her,  and  a  feeling  of  utter 
desolation  took  possession  of  her.  The  very  loneliness  of  her  posi- 
tion made  her  anger  against  Edward  forgotten  the  moment  he 
appeared,  and  she  turned  to  him  as  the  one  hope  and  reliance  left 
Ler.  For  him,  fur  as  he  was  from  mistaking  the  nature  of  her 
emotions  and  sentiments  toward  him,  this  was  a  blissful  foretaste 
of  that  future  to  which  he  trustingly  looked  forward,  resolved  to  be 
discouraged  at  nothing  however  threatening  to  his  hopes  ;  and  he 
took  her,  unresisting,  under  his  protection. 

He  had  lost  no  time  in  writing  to  Lisle  of  this  fresh  bereavement, 
and  had  briefly  called  his  attention  to  Julie's  desolate  position  with- 
out so  much  as  a  living  relative  to  offer  her  the  consolation  and  sub- 
stantial comfort  she  so  much  required  ;  and  he  felt  assured  that  he 
would  at  once  enter  upon  the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  her  guar- 
dian, heretofore  only  a  nominal  title.  Mrs.  Kolley  had  told  him  of 
the  solemn  promise  Lisle  had  given  her  to  do  by  her  a<  by  a  sister, 
and  the  one  ray  of  comfort  he  gave  to  Julie  for  the  future,  was  the 
hope  that  a  new  home  would  be  provided  for  her  far  from  the 
scenes  to  which  she  felt  she  could  not  return. 

Totally  unfitted  for  study  as  she  was,  it  was  worse  than  useless  to 
r«l  urn  to  school ;  nor  would  Mrs.  Sandford  consent  to  Hose's  propo- 
sition to  take  her  at  once  to  their  own  home.  Fortifying  her  posi- 
tion toward  Julie  with  the  reflection  that  she  had  done  her  <  uty  by 
IKT  as  chaperone,  Mrs.  Sandford  reminded  her  daughter  that  her 
own  settlement  had  yet  to  bo  secured,  and  indulged  in  so  many  re- 


226  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

proachea  against  her  refractoriness  in  refusing  to  allow  the  affair  to 
be  arranged,  that  Rose  in  very  indignation  became  silent. 

The  one  thing  that  remained  was  to  take  Julie  to  his  own  pater- 
nal home,  where  at  least  she  could  remain  in  quiet  tii!  Lisle  should 
be  heard  from ;  and,  she  assenting  to  this  as  to  all  other  proposi- 
tions advanced  by  him.  they  commenced  preparations  to  leave  at 
once. 

The  last  evening  of  her  stay  was  spent  with  her  fiancee,  who  was  :»t 
once  inconsolable  and  resentful  uuder  her  departure,  and  urged 
their  immediate  marriage  ;is  most  judiciors,  and  excusable  by  cir- 
cumstances. She  refused,  and  when  he  insisted  with  more  than  due 
authority,  told  him  as  firmly  as  gently,  that  until  he  was  reinstated 
as  a  man  of  honor  who  dared  bear  his  own  name  in  any  place  the 
EUU  shone  on,  and  in  every  presence,  even  lisle's,  her  promise  coukl 
never  be  ratified ;  that  when  his  atonement  had  been  fully  made, 
should  her  guardian  refuse  to  accept  it.  and  still  persecute  him  with 
unmerited  prejudice,  then,  indeed,  the  whole  affair  would  be  merely 
a  matter  of  personal  feeling,  in  which  her  own  was  entitled  to  as 
much  consideration  as  any  other. 

Louis  Hartley  really  loved  Julie  with  the  one  ardent  passion  of  his 
life ;  and  as  he  realized  the  severe  test  her  affection  must  sustain,  if, 
living  under  L:sle's  roof,  she  should  daily  hear  the  adverse  opinion 
he  knew  Lisle  entertained  toward  him,  expressed  with  that  force 
and  emphasis  for  which  he  was  so  remarkable,  he  suffered  perhaps 
the  severest  penalty  possible  for  his  wrong  d  iu_r.  It  seemed  impos- 
sible that  her  affection  for  him  could  survive  such  a  test,  linked  to 
Lisle  as  she  was  by  every  tie  of  old  companionship  and  affection, 
•added  to  that  relationship  of  guardian  and  ward  which  should  ren- 
der his  opinions  of  even  more  weight  and  importance  to  her.  The 
very  knowledge  of  his  own  unworthiness  forbade  him  a  hope  that 
Lisle  would  ever  accord  him  the  hand-gra-p  of  fellowship,  still  loss 
approve  his  suit  to  his  ward ;  and  his  heart  fainted  within  him  ns 
he  saw  that  Julie,  heretofore  so  flexible  and  yielding,  was  upon  this 
point  immovable. 

The  fine  sentiment  he  had  expres-ed  relative  to  reparation  and 
atonement,  which  had  dawned  upon  his  mind  only  in  the  moment 
lie  hail  uttered  it.-was  then  a  fixed  fact  to  be  literally  accomplished, 
without  which  he  could  hope  nothing  even  from  Julie  herself,  who 
di-played  so  unexpected  a  distinction  between  words  and  deeds. 
How  was  he  to  accomplish  that  which  it  ha  1  cost  him  nothing  to 
declare,  while  lie  exulted  in  the  feeling  of  conscious  honor  such  no- 


'THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  227 

bility  of  purpose  imparted,  assumed  only  for  a  purpose,  as  it  was. 
As  the  problem  occurred  to  him,  he  cast  resentfully  aside  the  little 
hand  lie  had  clasped  in  his  pleading,  and  said  bitterly, 

"  Like  all  your  sex,  you  are  cruel  and  pitiless !  If,  under  one  im- 
pulse, you  with,  seeming  generosity  cast  a  word  of  mercy  to  a  poor 
wretch  who  humbles  himself  to  supplicate  for  it,  it  is  only  that  in  t!;e 
rebound  it  may  crush  him  completely.  There  is  always  some  impossi- 
bility to  be  accomplished,  as  a  passport  to  your  favor." 
"  You  are  cruel  and  unjust." 

"In  which  I  trespass  upon  your  exclusive  prerogative  !  See  now 
what  a  hope  you  offer  me  for  the  future,  what  encouragement  to 
humble  myself  before  a  proud  interloper  who  came  between  me  and 
a  fortune,  and  skillfully  supplanted  me  in  the  favor  of  one  who  was 
my  benefactor  and  friend  long  before  he  ever  became  his.  He  tricked 
me  out  of  all  this,  and  now  I  am  to  cringe  to  him  lest  he  also  deprive 
me  of  you." 

His  injustice  banished  from  her  the  tender  veneration  which  had 
been  so  marked  a  feature  in  her  regard  for  him.  He  was  tearing 
away  the  veil  which  had  heretofore  concealed  his  real  self  from  hoi- 
eyes;  and  she  looked  up  at  him  with  her  proud  spirit  flashing  in 
her  eyes. 

"  You  forget,  sir,  to  whom  you  are  speaking,  when  you  utter  such 
words  of  Lis!e  Sterling  !  Understand  once  for  all  time,  that  I  never 
offered  you  any  inducement  to  seek  to  retrieve  your  fair  name,  never 
named  any  reward  for  a  course  of  conduct  which  honor  should  in- 
spire, as  I  believed  it  did.  I  would  not  turn  one  glance  upon  a  man 
whom  I  \\&A  persuaded  to  act  honorably.'11 

"Oh,  Julie,  Julie,  have  mercy  upon  me!  You  torture  me  till  I 
am  not  master  of  myself.  I  am  teaching  you  to  despise  me — Lisle 
Sterling  will  finish  what  I  have  begun.  If  you  go  to  him  I  shall 
lose  you  forever.  Kill  me,  then,  at  once ;  and  not  by  aching  inches." 
He  sank  down  beside  her  with  an  air  of  such  complete  dejection 
and  despair,  that  her  heart  was  torn  with  tenderest  pity,  and  iaying 
her  hand  upon  his  bowed  hi  ad,  she  said, 

"  Do  not  let  us  add  to  our  unhappiness  by  unkind  words.  If  I 
am  firm  upon  this  one  subject  where  you  are  concerned,  it  is  that  I 
will  Lave  the  man  i  call  husband  deserve  the  respect  of  the  world, 
as  well  as  my  own,  and  merit,  whether  or  not  he  receive,  the  good 
will  of  those  whom  in  a  misguided  moment  he  wronged.  When 
you  shall  have  effected  this,  I  will  not  stop  to  think  whose  personal 
pique  may  still  be  unallayed,  even  if  Lisle  himself  may  be  unjust 


228  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

enough  to  cherish  one, — which  I  cannot  anlic:pate.  Beside  nothing 
binds  me  to  wait  upon  his  consent  to  niy  marriage ;  it  is  only  my 
•wish  to  do  so.  which  proper  circumstances  could  quite  change. 
When  I  am  satisfied  with  you,  I  will  fulfill  my  promise  :  rely  upon 
this." 

"  Ah,  Julie,  you  think  so  now,  but  gradually  you  will  grow  in- 
different and  cold.  I  shall  forget  ::11  else  to  follow  you,  and  so  rush 
headlong  into  ruin.  Your  guardian  will  assume  authority  to  ban'sh 
me, — I  am  impulsive  and  violent, — who  knows  what  may  ensue?" 

"You  nnbt  not  follow  me; — I  tbibid  it  most  emphatically.  If 
under  any  circumstances  I  can  grow  '  indifferent  and  cold,'  accept 
it  as  a  proof  of  my  utter  wortblessncss,  and  leave  me  to  my  fate." 

"  Oh,  ye?,  and  mine, — you  do  not  think  of  that  when  you  speak 
BO  slightingly  of  your  own  •  There  is  a  bare  hope  that  you  may  not 
go  where  I  am  looked  upon  in  such  a  hateful  light,  and  to  it  I  will 
dinar.  But  if  you  go,  and  sometimes  find  me  near  you,  in  mercy 
think  what  leads  me  there,  and  do  not  annihilate  me  for  having 
disobeyed  so  relentless  a  command.  Swear  to  me  once  more,  that 
if  in  what  even  you  must  pronounce  a  reasonable  time,  and  after  all 
I  can  do  in  my  own  behalf.  Lisle  remains  inflexible,  you  will  never- 
theless ratify  the  engagement  you  have  made." 

"  Determined  miteralle,  once  more  I  swear !''  she  smilingly  returned, 
and  then  rising,  she  added,  "  And  now  I  must  say  good-night.     Ed-  . 
ward  will  be  looking  for  me,  as  he  is  quite  alone." 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  but  pushing  it  aside,  he  caught  her 
in  his  arms,  and  as  he  rained  his  farewell  kisses  upon  cheek,  brow, 
and  neck,  he  murmured  passionately, 

"Oh,  Julie,  Julie — if  need  be,  crime  itself  shall  help  to  make  you 
mine  I  Nothing  shall  separate  us — nothing !" 

Turning  to  leave  him,she  opened  the  door  just  as  El  ward  reach,  d 
it  in  search  of  her,  having  vainly  looked  everywhere  elsv,  and  at  last 
been  apprised  by  Mrs.  Sandford  that  she  was  in  their  private  parlor. 

He  drew  back  a  step  as  he  saw  how  neatly  he  had  intruded  upon 
"  a  scene,"  and  said  apologetically, 

"I  was  told  that  I  should  find  you  here, but  I  thought  you  nlone."1 

"  She  woul  i  have  been,  hi  one  moment  I  am  just  taking  leave," 
Hartley  replied  bowing  over  his  hat. 

The  two  had  been  presented  by  Mrs.  Sandford  the  preceding  day, 
and  had  several  tim  .s  passed  each  other  with  only  such  polite  ac- 
knowledgment as  is  usually  displayed  by  gentlemen  quite  indiffer- 
ent to  each  other.  But  in  this  moment  each  intuitively  recognized 


THE   1IOUSK   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  219 

in  the  other  a  rival,  and  after  one  brief  but  expressive  glance,  Hartley 
made  a  second  bow  not  altogether  humble,  ns  his  triumphant  smile 
testified,  and  returning  it  with  grave  politeness,  Edward  closed  the 
door  upon  his  exit.  Julie  stood  in  some  embarrassment  near  the 
threshold,  waiting  for  Edward  to  break  the  silence. 

"  So,"  he  soliloquized  as  he  turned  away.  "  The  list  increases ! 
Verily  my  name  will  have  a  goodly  number  of  predecessors,  if  even 
at  lust  it  be  granted  a  place  upon  the  list !" 

Before  he  had  conquered  his  impatience,  he  heard  the  door  open 
and  c!o;e.  Julie  had  left;  him  without  a  word !  and  audibly  pro- 
nouncing himself  "  a  fool,''  he  too  left  the  room. 

The  next  morning  they  started  homeward,  and  after  a  weary 
journey  arrived  at  the  familiar  mill-house,  where  Mrs.  Sterling  was 
expecting  them.  She  came  out  to  the  gate  to  receive  them,  serene 
in  a  new  bobinet  cap  and  black  silk  apron  ;  and  as  it  was  a  sort  of 
state  occasion,  Mr.  Sterling  foMowed,  not  quite  at  ease  in  his  best 
coat,  -donned  in  their  honor,  but  to  which  he  had  quite  failed,  after 
many  efforts,  to  add  a  hat  yet  in  its  pristine  newness,  and  so  wore 
in  its  stead  his  battered  old  "  beaver,"  only  half  bereft  of  the  flour 
which  from  long  occupation  had  assumed  the  right  to  resist  his 
most  vigorous  efforts  at  banishment. 

"  A  perfect  Sterling  to  the  lust !  "  exclaimed  his  wife  contemptu- 
ously, as  she  ca->t  one  last  glance  over  his  ungainly  figure  and  unique 
dress,  and  then,  determined  to  exhibit  theFitzjames  native  superior- 
ity, hastened  out  to  offer  her  greetings  first,  leaving  him  to  follow  at 
his  own  pace. 

"  I  do  declare,  my  son,  this  is  a  bright  day  on  which  you  have 
come  home  quite  of  your  own  accord,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sterling  as 
she  reached  out  her  hand  to  Edward.  "  I  was  sure  you'd  bring 
Julie,  too ;  and  she's  as  welcome  as  can  be,  though  she'll  lind  it  hard 
to  put  up  with  our  plain  ways.  IL.-re's  Mr.  Sterling  will  tell  you 
how  welcome  the  daughter  of  his  rid  friend  is.  Here,  Mr.  Sterling ; 
this  is  Dr.  Kelley's  daughter  Juiie.  You  remember  little  Julie 
Kclley?" 

"Ahem, — why  of  course  Lydia  t  and  I'm  sure  she  is  welcome. 
Your  father  and  me  was  old  friends,  Julie,  old  and  kind  friends  for 
many  a  year,  and  a  good  man  he  was  !  How  do  you  do,  Edward  ?" 

Mrs.  Sterling  turned  again  to  Julie,  whom  she  surveyed  with  a, 
critical  eye.  "  You  are  a  wonderfully  grown  girl  now, — I  suppose  I 
ought  to  say  young  lady,  as  you  come  from  a  Seminary,  and  the 
Falls,  and  what  not.  Dr.  Kelley  had  mighty  grand  notions  of  his 


230  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

own  and  your  mother  wasn't  a  whit  better  ;  but  you're  young  yet, 
and  you'll  come  down  to  common  folk's  life,  I'll  warrant." 

Julie  conquered  her  indignation  at  this  implied  criticism  of  her 
dead  parents,  but  Mr.  Sterling  uttered  his  mild  protest  against  the 
remark. 

"You  don't  mean  just  what  it  sounds  as  if  you  did,  Lydia.  It  is 
well  known  sis  Dr.  Kelley  was  forehanded  in  the  world,  ami  able  to 
live  as  he  thought  be^t,  and  his  wife  WHS  a  mild-tempered,  slim  little 
creetur  whose  equal  couldn't  be  found  for  kind-heartedness.  I  never 
have  forgot  how  she  nursed  up  Lisle  that  winter  he  was  so  ailing — 
just  as  if  he  was  her  own  child !  I'm  glad  to  do  by  you  what  your 
father  and  mother  have  done  by  my  boys,  Julie,  and  I  will  as  far  as 
I'm  able.  Edward  will  be  a  brother  to  you,  and  so  will  Lisle,  too, 
I'm  sure." 

"  Who  says  Lisle  is  her  brother  ?''  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  fiercely 
timing  upon  him  as  he  uttered  the  last  words. 

li  There,  Lydia,  there,"  said  the  old  gentleman  laying  his  hand 
upon  her  shoulder  soothingly.  She  shook  it  off  resentfully. 

"  Don't  paw  me  over  after  such  a  speech  as  that !  Always  twit- 
ting, twitting,  about  something  or  other  !" 

Julie  heard  in  astonishment ;  and  taking  her  arm  Edward  led  her 
forward  to  the  house,  as  he  said  apologetically, 

"  Poor  old  lady,  she  is  quite  losing  her  mind,  and  talks  much  of 
the  very  wildest  nonsense.  She  never  had  much  mind,  as  you  know ; 
but  it  was  enough  to 'make  its  wreck  lamentable.  To  notice  what 
she  says,  only  makes  her  worse.  I  hope  you  will  soon  have  a  pleas- 
anter  home." 

Wiien  Mrs.  Sterling  reached  the  door,  she  seemed  quite  to  have 
forgotten  her  ebullition  of  temper,  and  insisted  upon  showing  Jul  e 
to  the  room  assigned  her,  though  she  would  much  have  preferred 
being  left  alone  to  remove  her  travel-stained  apparel. 

Mis.  Sterling  showed  no  intention,  of  leaving  her,  but  lifting  the 
bonnet  Julie  removed  from  her  aching  head,  turned  it  round  anil 
round  upon  the  hand  she  inserted  in  its  crown,  to  observe  its  shape 
and  style. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you've  bought  your  mourning  tilings  yet.  Young 
people  mostly  put  it  off  longer'n  is  decent.  But  now  you're  left  to 
your  own  property,  like,  for  support,  you'll  find  mourning  costs  less 
than  most  anything  else  that's  as  elegant,  berause  you  won't  need  so 
many  changes  of  it.  It's  true  you  are  in  half  mourning  all  this  time ; 
but  of  course  you'll  have  to  go  into  bombazine  and  crape  again. 


THE   HOUSE   BEIIIND   THE   POPLARS.  231 

Thei  e's  your  mother's  crape  things,  every  bit  as  good  as  new,  can 
be  made  over  for  }  ou.  Lucky,  ain't  it. — only  one  year's  ( areful  wear 
out  of  them!  I'm  famous  at  managing — all  my  family  was  the 
same !" 

Julie  struggled  against  her  rising  sobs,  and  when  she  could  find 
voice  to  speak,  s  dd  faintly, 

"  Please  be  kind  enough  to  leave  ma  alone  for  awhile.  I  am 
tire;!,  and  half  sick  ;  and  not  fit  to  see  any  one." 

"Hoity  toity;  turns  me  out  of  my  own  rooms!  But  I  won't  bcm- 
malice.  I'll  go  right  down  and  make  you  some  bonese  tea  k  r 
your  head.  Nobody  shall  say  I  bore  malice  towards  Mrs.  Kelloy's 
daughter  !"  and  she  left  her,  much  to  Julie's  relief. 

Julie  soou  discovered  that  nothing  like  the  worldless  quiet  for 
which  she  longed  could  be  found  under  Mrs.  Stei  ling's  rof,  un- 
ceasingly as  Edward  strove  to  secure  it;  and  both  waited  impa- 
tiently for  the  arrival  of  Lisle's  letter,  now  daily  expected.  Edward 
himself  not  unfrequeutly  fell  a  victim  to  his  mother's  displeasure  for 
some  fancied  slight  or  innuendo  of  which  he  was  wholly  guiltless. 
A  chance  word,  a  misinterpreted  look,  awoke  her  ire  and  suspicion, 
and  with  patient  meekness  Mr.  Sterling  bent  his  energies  upon  the 
task  oi  soothing  and  quieting  her,  in  a  way  that  was  really  affecting 
to  witness. 

Edward's  patient  devotion  of  his  time  and  talents  to  Julie's  com- 
fort met  with  some  species  of  reward  in  the  continually  recurring 
amusing  remembrances  awakened  by  surroundings  familiar  to  his 
own  and  Lislu's  boyhood, — incidents  not  particularly  amusing  at 
the  time,  but  borrowing  a  ludicrous  tint  from  the  light  of  the  pre- 
sent;  and  as  he  laughingly  recalled  them  in  family  conclave,  .Mr. 
Sterling's  grim  visage  even  relaxed,  though  he  never  had  been 
heard  to  laugh.  Usually  Mrs.  Sterling  quite  exulted  in  these  rem- 
iiii.-cences,  illustrative  as  many  of  them  were  of  that  talent  for 
m  in-igement,  and  a  faculty  for  securing  whatever  was  desirable, 
which  she  boasted  was  handed  down  to  them  from  their  Fritzjam  s 
prog  nitors ;  but  upon  one  unlucky  day  the  conversation  took  a 
turn  that  came  more  nearly  causing  a  rupture  be!  ween  the  old 
couple,  than  anything  that  had  heretofore  occurred. 

Coming  late  to  his  dinner,  Edward  offered  his  apology  to  thu 
family. 

"  I  have  been  looking  over  a  collection  of  old-time  treasures 
stored  aw  \y  and  seemingly  forgotten  ;  and  the  old  fa  ciuatiou  they 


232  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS. 

had  for  rne,  qnite  came  back  again.  Father,  do  you  remember  that 
old  buffalo  robe  L:slc  and  I  so  used  to  covet  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  hid  it  a  \  ay,  ns  I  never  believed  iu  leading  any  one  in'o 
temptation,  and  there's  scripter  against  covetousnes-i.  I  recollect 
you  were  bent  on  trading  it  off;  and  it  was  worth  moie  to  throw 
over  the  wagon  seat." 

"  Well,  I  will  confess,  now,  that  we  hunted  it  up,  and  really 
should  have  sold  it  one  day  to  an  itinerant  dealer  in  pelts,  had  wo 
not  come  to  an  unfortunate  impediment  in  the  shape  of  the  last  six- 
pence necessary  to  close  the  bargain,  which  he  wouldn't  give,  and 
we  wouldn't  throw  off ;  and  priding  ourselves  upon  our  uncompro- 
mising firmness,  we  put  it  back  where  we  found  it,  and  consoled  our- 
selves with  the  idea  of  our  sharpness,  in  place  of  the  money  we  hoped 
to  have  gained.  Lisle  and  I  were  hard  pressed  for  money  iu  those 
days,  and  quite  envied  the  maternal  privilege  of  picking  off  guard 
pockets." 

Mrs.  Sterling  bridled  up  indignantly,  and  said  in  severe  re- 
proof 

"Edward,  confess  as  many  of  your  and  Lisle's  dishonest  tricks  as 
you  please  ;  but  don't  drag  me  into  the  catalogue.  /  pick  your  fa- 
ther's pockets  !  I  think  I  see  myself  at  such  a  caper  P 

"Very  likely,  with  memory's  eye.  But  you  had  a  right  to  do  it; 
so  you  needn't  wish  to  forget  nor  deny  it.  No  one  would  dispute 
your  right  to  '  one  third,'  even  if  you  did  take  it  a  little  in  ad- 
vance of  the  calamity  for  which  the  law  offers  that  consolation.  If 
it  required  strategy  to  get  at  it,  that  was  your  misfortune,''  Edward 
returned  good-humore  !ly. 

"  Now  tell  the  truth.  EJward.  Did  you  ever  see  me  take  one 
cent  of  your  fathers  money,  without  his  knowledge  ?" 

"  Did  not  I  ?  "Why,  don't  you  remember  how  you  used  to  tug 
away  at  the  heavy  weights  father  used  to  pile  upon  the  chest  where 
he  kept  his  money  bag,  by  way  of  lock  and  key  ?  and  how  you 
called  Lisle,  one  day,  to  have  him  show  you  how  th  it  strange  knot 
was  tied  in  the  siring  that  served  as  a  patent  seal  for  the  little  can- 
vas bag  itself.  He  had  seen  it  dime  so  many  times  that  he  had 
learned  it,  and  he  tieJ  it  for  you  exactly  as  it  was  before,  so  tkit  no 
tales  were  told." 

Mr.  Sterling  lai  1  down  h's  knife  and  fork,  looked  hard  at  his 
wife  who  struggled  to  appear  undisturbed  ;  and  then  rising  with  an 
air  of  alarm,  he  went  to  the  chest  alluded  to,  opened  it  with  trem- 
bling hands,  and  evolving  the  identical  canvas  bag,  wei •  i:ed  it  with 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  TOPLAKS.  233 

a  reverent  oscillation,  first  in  one  band  and  then  in  the  other,  Sus- 
piciously, as  though  even  yet  it  might  disclose  some  ancient  depic- 
tion, or  effect  of  more  recent  depredation ;  and  at  last  putting  it 
deep  in  his  capacious  pocket,  he  buttoned  it  carefully  in,  slapping  it 
a  time  or  two  afterward  to  assure  himself  that  it  was  really  there, 
and  then  returned  to  his  unfiuished  dinner  with  an  increased  gravi- 
ty of  manner  through  which  he  took  no  farther  notice  of  anything 
around  him.  Mrs.  Sterling  sobbed  theatrically,  and  as  she  swayed 
to  and  fro  she  exclniined, 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear !  If  it  has  come  to  this  after  all  these  years, 
I'd  better  leave  a  house  where  I'm  looked  on  as  a  thief!  I've  put 
up  with  a  good  deal  in  my  time,  but  th:s  beats  all.  I'll  leave  to- 
morrow, if  I  have  to  go  to  the  county  poor-house.'* 

Mr.  Sterling  made  no  reply  to  the  threat,  and  with  an  abrupt 
change  of  manner  fhe  ceased  sobbing,  and  said  contemptuously, 

"  Thank  fortune  none  of  my  family  were  skinflints  !  Among  all 
the  Fitzjameses — and  their  name  was  legion — there  never  was  a 
stingy  one  known  !  It's  hard  enough  being  wife  and  mother  to  a 
race  of  mean-spirited  Sterlings,  without  being  called  a  thief!  You 
•were  a  real  Fitzjames  when  you  were  little,  Edward,  and  I  did  think 
there'd  be  one  decent  one  among  the  snarl.  Dear  me,  Lisle  is  all 
Kelley,  and  you  are  all  Kelley  too !" 

"  The  effect  of  early  training,  mother.  The  doctor  took  us 
young,  and  treated  us  like  a  real  f  ither." 

"  He  wasn't  your  father !"  retorted  Mrs.  Sterling  curtly,  the  one 
idea  forever  haunting  her  and  called  up  by  a  word, 

No  reply  was  offered  ;  and  as  Mr.  Sterling  left  the  table,  his  wife 
fixed  her  eyes  with  a  half  vacant  stare  upon  Julie's  face,  muttering 
to  herself,  "  They  are  something  like — something  like — and  both  of 
them  all  Kelley  !''  and  still  muttering,  she  slowly  shoved  back  her 
chair  and  left  the  room. 

'•  How  strangely  she  does  act !"  Julie  exclaimed  half  in  horror. 

"  Yes,  she  is  becoming  quite  demented.      She  doesn't  seem  to 
..  know  what  she  says  half  the  time.    You  ought  to  feel  quite  flattered, 
'little   Kelley,  for    your  name  is  forever  on  her  lips.     Poor  old 
mother !" 


234  TTrr. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Poun  months  had  elapsed  since  Lisle  Sterling  plead  his  suit  with 
Leonore  Wakefield  with  only  such  success  as  was  embodied  in  the 
indefinite  hope  vouchsafed  him  for  the  future — four  months  of  unin- 
terrupted harmony  in  the  friendly  relationship  established  between 
them,  which  no  engagement,  however  definite,  could  have  increased 
— when  Edward's  letter  announcing  Mrs.  Kelley's  death,  was  19- 
ceived. 

This  intelligence  did  not  cause  him  the  shock  of  surprise  it  had 
occasioned  to  others  who  loved  her?  for  he  had  never  ceased  to  re- 
member her  own  forebodings,  so  freely  expressed  to  him  upon  the 
occasion  of  their  last  confidential  interview,  in  which  she  had  begged 
him  when  they  should  be  fulfilled  to  be  not  only  a  guardian,  but  a 
brother,  to  the  daughter  thus  bereft  of  her  last  relative.  He  had 
given  her  this  promise,  and  he  would  sacredly  fulfill  it. 

Susceptible  as  was  he  himself  to  mental  suffering,  it  needed  no 
enumeration  of  Julie's  woes  and  perplexities,  to  spur  him  to  im- 
mediate action. 

She  was,  in  truth,  his  half  sister,  however  little  the  fact  might  be 
suspected  by  others,  and  his  home  was  her  proper  asylum  ;  but  the 
world,  so  virtuously  proper  in  its  requirements  of  others,  would 
stickle  for  the  decorum  of  a  female  companion,  even  if  it  forbore  to 
animadvert  upon  the  circumstance  of  so  young  a  gentleman  being 
the  leo-al  guardian  of  so  engaging  a  creature  as  Julie,  and  he  at  once 
sat  about  the  task  of  providing  for  her  a  suitable  companion. 

Here  again  difficulties  beset  him.  Old  ladies  were  generally  dis- 
aoreeable  companions — a  young  one  would  scarcely  improve  matter?, 
unless,  indeed,  she  were  his  wife— and  armed  with  this  apology  for 
again  pressing  a  suit  that  might  be  rejected,  he  bent  his  steps  to  the 
little  parlor  where  he  knew  Leonore  was  to  be  found. 

He  had  always  believed  that  her  former  rejection,  or  what  was 
virtually  such,  was  based  upon  some  over-sensitiveness  which,  if  crit- 
ically examined  would  vanUh,  and  resolved  to  convince  her  how 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THiS   POl'LABS.  235 

lightly  he  regarded  such  an  obstacle,  and  how  little  he  cared  to  in- 
vestigate its  cause,  ho  felt  one  of  those  premonitions  of  success  which 
seldom  betrayed  him. 

Leonore  was  sitting  quite  alone  in  the  luxurious  twilight  which 
even  upon  this  glowing  August  morning  rendered  cool  the  pretty 
parlor  shaded  by  the  broad  banana  leaves,  with  their  varied  tints  of 
green  spread  broadly  to  the  sun,  or  broken  into  fringe  by  the  fresh 
breeze,  that,  sweeping  in  at  the  open  window,  played  fantastic 
capers  with  the  fleecy  curtains,  and  coquetted  with  the  light  morning 
robe  in  which  she  was  arrayed,  ever  and  anon  revealing,  by  a 
fi  eAer  eddy,  one  tiny  slippered  foot,  and  lifting  little  tresses  from 
her  forhead  with  a  jaunty  freedom  which  imparted  a  new  charm  to 
her  usually  rather  severe  and  classic  style  of  beauty. 

She  beckoned  Lisle  to  an  ottoman  beside  her,  and  with  the  un- 
constraint  of  intimate  friendship,  continued  the  light,  ormental 
employment  with  which  she  was  busy  when  he  was  shown  in.  In 
her  whole  demeanor  there  was  something  so  indescribably  gentle 
and  tender,  despite  its  airy  piquancy  and  half  careless  abandon, 
that  Lisle  was  fascinated  anew,  and  forgetting  the  earnest  arguments 
he  had  resolved  to  urge  with  all  the  formal  logic  of  which  he  was 
master,  he  poured  out  the  torrent  of  feeling  that  rushed  and  surged 
through  his  heart,  with  a  simple,  natural  eloquence  that  swept  all 
resistance  before  it. 

She  looked  into  his  face  for  one  whole  moment  without  offering 
one  word  in  reply ;  but  the  changing  lights  and  shadows  upon  her 
own  face,  rendered  that  silence  eloquent, — a  speechless  revelation 
of  the  struggle  going  on  within  both  brain  and  heart,  no  less 
engrossing  than  the  undivided  passion  he  had  plead.  At  length 
the  troubled  expression  of  her  glance  gave  way  to  one  more  softly 
serene,  and  folding  both  her  hands  upon  his  shoulder,  she  said  with 
some  vague  air  of  indecision  in  her  whole  manner,  to  which  she 
was  still  reluctant  to  give  rein, 

"  Now  Lisle,  rehearse  to  me  without  one  softening  clause  or  fas- 
tidious choice  of  expression,  the  whole  case  as  it  stands  between  us. 
I  want  to  hear,  in  plain  words,  all  that  is  translatable  of  a  matter 
over  which  I  have  thought  and  thought,  forever  arguing  against  my 
own  inclinations,  till  I  have  lost  the  very  power  to  see  it  iu  an  un- 
biassed light.  Recite." 

"  In  very  truth,  I  comprehend  it  too  little  to  do  so  !  I  only  know 
that  you  refuse  to  grant  my  prayer  forever  offered  in  one  form  or  an- 
other, because  you  sav  you  cannot,  must  not,  and  that  for  my  own 


236  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

sake,  and  you  affirm  that  my  lips  uttered  such  a  decision — heaven 
knows  how  or  when  !  If  they  ever  did  utter  it,  I  retract  it  ;i  thou- 
sand times." 

"Yes.     Go  on,  I  want  to  hear  more." 

"  There  is  no  more.  The  rest,  if  more  there  be  despite  my  con- 
victions, lies  somewhere  in  the  unexplored  region  between  your 
heart  and  lips,  and  I  have  no  mental  compass  to  guide  my  investi- 
gations. Keep  it  i  o  yourself,  Leonore,  guard  as  jealously  as  you  will 
this  something  that  thus  far  has  rendered  you  inexorable  ;  I  do  not 
ask  to  know  it,  I  never  will.  All  I  ask  is  that  you  will  no  longer  sac- 
rifice our  happiness  to  it.  Be  merciful  to  me,  if  you  are  relentless 
toward  yourself." 

She  did  not  speak  or  move ;  but  her  eyes  turned  from  his,  and 
fixed  themselves  upon  the  floor  unrevealingly. 

A  sudden  fear  darted  into  his  heart,  and  convulsively  grasping 
the  hands  still  folded  upon  his  shoulder,  he  asked, 

"  Leonore,  is  there  any  legal  impediment  to  our  marriage — are  you, 
perhaps,  already  married  ?" 

She  turned  a  glance  of  reproach  upon  him  which  her  words  did 
not  belie,  proudly  as  they  were  spoken. 

"  There  exists  no  legal  impediment.  Were  I  the  wife  of  another, 
do  you  think  I  would  thus  listen  to  you  ?  I  am  legally  free  to  wed 
whomsoever  I  will.  It  is  only  against  yourself  that  even  a  moral 
objection  exists — a  mere  conscientious  scruple." 

"  Forgive  ine,  Leonore ;  but  banish  this  scruple.  I  will  absolve 
you." 

"  You  do  not  know  how  I  am  tempted  to  do  so  I  You  do  not 
imagine  the  price  it  costs  me  to  remain  true  to  my  own  sense  of 
honor  and  right." 

"  Then  forget '  honor  and  right '  toward  me.  I  plead  rather  for 
happiness,  and  grant  you  an  unlimited  dispensation  to  sin  against 
me.  If  I  choose  to  endure  it,  no  one  else  has  the  right  to  protest  or 
object.  Dismiss  this  chimera  that  separates  us  !  Oh,  Leonore,  you 
will,  you  will ;  but  speak  it." 

She  uttered  not  a  word,  but  a  soft  flush  of  unspeakable  love  suf- 
fused her  face  and  brow,  and  her  lips  smiled  the  welcome  reply. 

Lisle  caught  her  to  his  breast,  ecstatically  murmuring, 

"  At  last,  at  last !  my  Leonore !     God  bless  you  1" 

After  one  moment's  unresisting  surrender  to  the  happiness  that 
possessed  her,  she  raised  her  face,  and  said  with  earnest  tenderness, 

"  Lisle,  Lisle,  if  the  hour  ever  come  when  you  are  tempted  to  re- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  237 

proach  mo  for  this  weakness,  remember  how  I  loved  you,  and  in 
mercy  restrain  the  words.  I  am  sacrificing  my  sense  of  honor  to- 
ward you,  to  our  mutual  happiness.  God  grant  it  may  ensure  it !" 

At  length  the  little  feminine  task  was  brokenly  r-sumecl,  and 
Lisle,  seated  quietly  near  her,  with  a  look  of  intensest  happiness 
upon  his  usually  grave  face  which  quite  transformed  it,  toyed  as  one 
who  now  possessed  the  right,  with  the  silken  tresses  tossed  more 
liberally  by  the  breeze  to  the  threatened  peril  of  the  whole  mnss  being 
decoyed  away  in  kindred  dancing  streamers.  Edward's  letter  had 
remained  quite  forgotten  till  now,  when  it  suddenly  recurred  to 
memory,  and  taking  it  from  his  memorandum  book,  he  spread  it  upon 
Leonore's  lap,  as  he  said,  smiling, 

"  See,  Leonore.  Here  is  a  letter  upon  which  I  had  based  more 
moving  arguments  than  I  could  have  uttered  in  a  day  ;  not  one  of 
which  was  pressed  into  service,  after  all  my  mental  labor !  Most 
well-merited  fate  of  all  argument,  where  only  feeling  should  reign 
supreme  !  Will  you  listen  while  I  read,  and  afterward  give  me  your 
sovereign  decision.  I  am,  as  it  were,  a  family  man  already,  and,  as 
you  will  see,  am  called  upon  to  fulfill  an  urgent  duty  !"  and  he  read 
her  the  letter,  explaining  as  he  proceeded. 

She  looked  up  in  smiling  amazement  when  he  concluded. 
"  You  the  guardian  of  a  young  lady  quite  of  marriageable  age ! 
How  did  you  establish  a  claim  to  sufficient  wisdom  and  most  sage 
decorum,  to  tempt  Doctor  Kelley  thus  to  endow  you  with  the 
honors  of  age  and  experience  ?  Six  whole  years  her  senior,  and  not 
yet  quite  gray !" 

"  I  never  was  young,  Leonore,  and  Doctor  Kelley,  better  than  any 
one  else,  knew  this.  His  daughter  is  like  a  sister  to  me,  as  well  she 
may  be,  reared  up  together  as  we  were !  The  doctor  loved  me  as  his 
own  child,  and  was  more  than  a  father  to  Edward  ,who  owes  him  all 
he  is  or  ever  will  be.  The  story  of  my  childhood  ia  a  sad  one,  Leo- 
nore ;  one  that  I  never  can  bear  to  repeat,  or  even  remember."  His 
f  ice  clouded,  and  his  voice  was  at  once  both  sad  and  bitter. 

She  hastened  to  divert  his  thoughts  from  such  disturbing  remin- 
iscences, and  succeeded. 

"  Poor  fittle  Julie,  how  utterly  alone  she  is.  She  will  come  to  you 
at  oace,  Lisle  ?" 

"  She  will  come  to  us,  if  you  consent.    I  should  have  sent  for  her 
ut  once  had  you  proved  relentless  this  morning ;  how  much  more, 
t  u  11,  sinco  I  can  offer  her  a  companion  and  a  sister." 
"  Oh,  Lisle,  stop.    Don't  say  '  a  sister.'    All  that  I  can  do  to  make 


238  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

her  happy,  I  will  do  with  a  cheerful  heart.  But  I  h  \ve  no  right  to 
4  a  sister,'  still  less  one  who  is  such  to  you.  If  I  won  her  love,  I 
should,  in  pure  generosity,  regret  it.  It  is  enough  that  I  should  ac- 
cept yours !" 

"  Most  humble  little  saint ;  you  shall  be  canonized  in  time,  be  pa- 
tient yi't  a  little !  But  don't,  like  Lady  Macbeth,  say  a  word  about 
'  perfumes  of  Arabia,'  for  the  Arabian  trade  isn't  wh.it  it  was." 

"  I  forewarn  you,  jeerer,  that  I  sha  1  levy  heavy  contributions  upon 
[your  purse.  Firstly,  my  salary  as  housekeeper,'' — she  suggested 
with  an  evident  effort  to  appear  as  playfully  at  ease  as  her  words 
indicated. 

"Oh,  no,  Mrs.  Perkins  is  all  sufficient  in  that  capacity,"  he 
answered  lightly. 

"  Well,  then,  some  sinecure  for  which  I  shall  receive,  in  current 
coin  of  the  republic,  not  less  than  I  now  receive  for  professional 
services." 

"  Do  you  in  fancy  endow  me  with  the  talent  of  stinginess,  that 
you  thus  seek  to  drive  a  bargain  with  me  ?  Not  a  dime !  You 
must  rely  upon  my  generosity, — an  unknown  quantity,  I  confess. 
So  pretty  and  so  calculating  !  Fie,  Leonore  !" 

She  became  grave  at  once,  and  there  was  an  audible  tremulousness 
in  the  voice  with  which  she  replied, 

"I  must  have  a  sum  of  my  own,  free  from  any  questioning  as  to 
how  I  expend  it.  As  your  wife  you  will  not  wish  me  to  earn  it  by 
my  own  exertions,  as  now  ;  but  I  must,  if  you  refuse  me." 

He  realized  that  she  was  painfully  in  earnest,  and  wishing  to 
divert  even  while  lie  gratified  her,  he  took  out  his  pencil  and 
formally  began,  despite  the  laughing  tone  he  assumed, 

"Memorandum,  not  to  ' forget  to  remember?  that  one  of  the  terms 
of  the  bargain  this  day  mide,  is  as  follows  :  A  good  fat  salary 
monthly  paid  in  hani,  in  current  funds,  to  be  the  unquestioned 
property  of  Leonore  Sterling,  and  to  be  by  the  said  L.  S.  expended 
in  whatever  manner  she  may  decide ;  marital  grumbling  quite  for- 
bidden, and  sky  blue  wigs  tolerated  and  admired,  should  the  lady 
so  enjoin  !  So,  Leonore,  are  these  terms  sufficiently  liberal  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  offer  them  in  good  faith,"  she  answered  seriously. 

"  Mercenary  wretch,  will  you  turn  tyrant,  too  ?  Suppose  I  am 
remiss  in  making  payments — will  yon  '  bone '  me  for  the  cash  ?" 

"  Yes,  probably." 

"  Will  you,  whenever  you  presume  to  desire  anything  under  the 
sun,  compel  me  to  pronounce  absolution  and  forgiveness  for  such 
temerity  ?" 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   TUE   POPI.A.RS.  239 

"  Possibly." 

"  Well,  if  I'm  to  go  upon  my  knees  everythne  I  wish  you  to  ac- 
cept '  a  little  pecuniary  aid'  outside  this  wonderful  salary,  I'll  be- 
speak a  buckskin  suit  at  once.  I  decidedly  object  to  perambulate 
the  streets  looking  like  a  dissenting  clergyman  alter  a  severe  season 
of '  revival.'  I  don't  know,  either,  how  much  of  such  wear  and  tear 
my  physical  constitution  can  eiidine;  and  so  I  advocate  a  community 
of  property  as  far  a*  we  two  are  concerned.  When  I  say  '  with  all 
my  worldly  goods  I  thee  endow,'  I  shan't  mean  the  legally  under- 
stood dower  of  the  use  of  one-third  after  my  demise — the  usual  mat- 
rimonial rendering  of  the  phrase,  if  one  may  judge  by  appearances.'' 

Her  smiles  returned  under  his  good  humor  and  characteristic  sar- 
casm ;  and  the  point  for  which  she  had  stipulated  thus  playfully  set- 
tled to  her  satisfaction,  no  farther  allusion  was  made  to  it,  nor  did 
Li^le  himself  mentally  comment  upon  its  strangeness,  excepting  to 
wonder  if  she  really  had  believed  him  possibly  penurious,  and  so 
wished  to  avoid  future  inconvenience.  It  was  not  a  nattering  infer- 
ence, but  happiness  soon  banished  its  sting  from  his  mind. 

Once  having  won  Leonore's  promise  to  become  his  wife,  patient 
waiting  with  no  definite  purpose  was  not  in  his  nature.  At  this 
season  of  the  year  most  of  their  social  circle  were  absent  from  the 
city,  and  those  who  remained  felt  no  ambition  for  merry-making. 
Lisle  heartily  rejoiced  at  this,  averse  to  wedding  parties  as  he  was, 
where  the  principal  actors  are  at  best  but  self  constituted  spectacles, 
to  be  scanned  and  criticised  as  never  b  fore,  by  those  for  whose 
gratification  the  whole  proceeding  is  endured.  Altogether  wrong 
as  such  a  prejudice  may  have  been,  Leonore  herself  shared  it,  and 
despite  the  remonstrances  of  Mrs.  Venard  and  Mrs.  Bertram,  who 
asserted  that  it  looked  like  a  deliberate  social  swindle,  a  quiet  wed- 
ding was  arranged  to  take  place  at  once. 

"  Only  to  think  how  venerably  Venard  would  have  given  away 
the  bride  in  the  presence  of  an  admiring  assemblage,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Bertram. 

"  No  thanks  for  his  liberality  with  what  would  not  have  been  his 
own  to  give,"  Lisle  retorted.  "  I  wonder  when  people  will  become 
sensible  enough  to  do  away  with  that  antediluvian  farce,  even  if 
they  will  keep  the  rest  of  the  absurd  rigmarole !  The  idea  of 
'•giving  the  bride'  as  one  would  make  over  the  kitchen  candlesticks, 
or  any  other  article  of  household  stuff!  I'm  only  surprised  thafc 
those  who  fancy  it,  don't  insist  upon  the  '  rod  of  correction '  that 


240  THE   HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLAE3. 

used  to  accompany  it,  and  still  does  in  some  countries.    Who  shall 
say  that  we  have  no  need  of  missionaries.1' 

"  Oh,  it's  only  mere  form ;  like  the  'obey '  and  the  rest  of  it.  No- 
body ever  intends  quite  to  bid  adieu  to  their  senses,"  said  Mrs.  Ber- 
tram. 

"  Yes  ;  the  whole  affair  is  too  much  '  mere  form,'  married  to-day, 
divorced  to  morrow,  and  ten  to  one  re-married  to  a  new  candidate 
for  earthly  purgatory,  long  before  the  real  wife  or  husband  is  de- 
cently dead  and  buried." 

" '  Real  wife  or  husband!'  Mrs.  Bertram  exclaimed  dissentingly. 
"  Of  course  the  real  one  is  she  or  he  whom  the  law  BO  recognizes." 

"  Blessed  are  they  who  so  feel  and  believe,  if  it  chance  to  be  their 
position  !  As  for  me,  had  I  married  the  veriest  vixen  the  sun  shines 
on,  I  should  feel  and  consider  that  she  was  indissolubly  my  wife ; 
and  were  I  to  marry  another  by  any  permission  of  '  the  law,'  I 
should  deserve  arrest  as  a  bigamist/'  Lisle  replied  with  some 
warmth. 

"  Oh,  we  have  all  he;ird  your  sentiments  upon  the  subject,  be- 
fore," retorted  Mrs.  Bertram.  "This  is  the  one  hobby  of  your 
otherwise  quite  sensible  and  steady-going  mentality.  '  The  law  is 
powerful  to  bind,  but  not  to  unloose !'  strange  creed,  for  which,  if 
you  received  your  just  deserts,  you'd  be  incontinently  •  gobbled  up  ' 
by  some  grass-widow !  If  you  were  to  be  so,  and  tried  to  get  the 
marriage  set  aside  upon  that  score,  you'd  soon  find  whether  the 
law  were  on  your  side  of  the  question,  and  what  is  received  as  law, 
might  as  well  be  so  for  all  practical  purposes  in  life." 

Lisle  turned  to  Leonore  and  made  her  a  salutation  of  mock 
reverence. 

"  Deign,  fair  lady,  to  accept  your  humble  servant's  most  grateful 
thanks.  Inflict,  oh  gracious  deity,  whatever  of  matrimonial  pains 
and  penalties  thou  may'st  see  fit,  and  thou  shalt  find  me  thankful,  to 
the  last,  that  even  thus  I  escape  so  horrible  a  'gobbling  up,' — all 
innocent  and  unoffending  as  I  am.  All  hail,  thou,  who  savest  a 
virtuous  citizen  from  the  fangs  of  the  grass-widow!" 

The  others  received  this  invocation  merrily  ;  but,  pale  and  grave, 
Leonore  struggled  briefly  with  some  strong  emotion  before  replying, 

"  Thank  me  for  nothing,  Lisle,  till  you  see  whether  or  not  I  merit 
thanks.  '  Matrimonial  pains  and  penalties  '  may  prove  more  griev- 
ous than  you  think ;  but  God  knows  my^first  wish  is  to  make  you 
happy." 

Beproachiug  himself  for  so  thoughtfully  ^having  struck  upon 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND    THE   POPLARS.  '241 

wliat  ho  knew  was  a  sensitive  nerve,  LLle  drew  her  arm  within  his 
own,  and  led  her  out  upon  the  gallery,  away  from  the  glancea  <5f 
involuntary  astonishment  bent  upon  her. 

"  There,  dear  child,  you  see  how  often  I  shall  thoughtlessly  give 
you  pain  if  you  do  not  conquer  this  morbid  sensitiveness !  What 
can  I  do  in  expiration  of  my  sins  ?" 

"  Release  me  from  this  engagement  I  ought  never  to  have  made." 

"  Leonore  !" 

."  Not  for  my  sake,  but  for  your  own." 

"  So  help  me  heaven,  I  never  will !  Nor  will  I  be  condemned  to 
fight  this  b.-ittle  over  and  over  again.  Receive  now,  my  just 
sentence  for  such  a  demand.  At  this  hour  to-morrow,  you  at  once 
aud  forever  resign  the  power  to  speak  such  words  to  me.  You 
(alked  of  'a  week  '  and  I  was  foolish  enough  to  assent.  Not  two 
days,  dear  Leonore !  You  force  me  to  be  tyrannical,  but  pleadingly, 
you  know." 

"  Oh,  Lisle,  I  cnnnot,  must  not  become  your  wife.  I  will  tell  you 
all  my  shameful  story,  though  I  perish  for  it, — a^  I  shall." 

"  No,  I  will  not  henr  it.  It  is  at  best  a  loss  of  lime,  nnd  it  is 
flying.  When  you  are  really  and  irrevocably  mine,  I  will  listen  to 
whatever  you  choose  to  teU,  and  shrive  you  after.  But  not  now." 

*'  Now  or  ne\  er,  Li^le." 

"  Then  never,  and  a  thousand  times  never  !  I  tell  you,  Leonore, 
that  nothing  shall  come  between  us  !  I  cannot,  will  not  suffer  it ! 
The  very  recounting  those  once  conquered  obstacles,  would  re'in- 
vigorate  them ;  and  I  cannot  endure  these  struggles  for  more  than 
life.  Oh,  Leonore,  you  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  fix  one's  life  Lope 
upon  a  coveted  object,  and  see  it  forever  just  beyond  one's  reach !  Sick, 
sorrowing,  and  humiliated,  I  have  struggled  into  manhood  to  catch 
one  first  glimpse  of  possible  happiness,  and  I  will  attain  it.  Hourly, 
waking  and  sleeping  alike,  I  am  tortured  with  the  fear  and  dread 
of  losing  you, — you,  the  one  object  I  have  ever  cherished  or  desired ; 
and  I  cannot  resign  you  even  at  your  own  bidding.  Without  you  I 
am  lo-t,  annihilated, — with  you,  whatever  may  betide,  I  cannot  sufFor 
more.  Keep  your  revelation,  and  give  me  yourself, — yourself !  I 
cnnnot  give  you  up." 

"  Then  you  shall  not.     Oh,  Lisle,  such  passion  frightens  me!" 

"  Well,  it  is  frightful, — it  frightens  me,  too ;  but  I  cannot  conquer 
it.  I  tried  to,  long  ago,  and  it  conquered  me,  and  holds  me." 

"Lisle,  you  will  never  forget  thnt  in  this  hour  I  tried -to  tell  you 
that  which  I  must  henceforth  forever  conceal,  and  that  you  would 


242  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAUS. 

not  listen  to  it.     Promise  me  this,  for  the  time  may  come  when  I 
shall  remind  you  of  it,  in  very  seli-d<:fenc«." 

"  Against  whom  ?" 

"  Yourself,  and  the  withering  justice  you  will  pour  out  upon  me." 

"  Never,  never !  Since  I  know  that  all  this  is  but  a  mere  '  moral 
obstacle,'  'a  scruple  of  conscience,'  as  your  lips  declared  one  blessed 
hour ;  I  have  no  care  for  anything  more.  I  rn;ike  any  promise  tint 
le.ivcs  you  mine,  bind  myself  to  anything  you  desire,  so  th.-it  I  do  not 
lose  you  !" 

"  Oh,  Lisle,  if  to  lose  what  you  love  is  thus  unendurable  to  you, 
proud,  fortunate,  blessed  as  you  are,  what  must  it  be  to  me,  who  in 
all  this  world  have  only  you  to  turn  to.  I  love  you — worship  you ; 
and  you  do  not  know  the  struggle  each  word  of  renunciation  costs 
me !" 

He  looked  at  her  one  eloquent  moment  as  the  tears  brimmed  up 
in  her  eyes  and  threatened  to  overflow,  and  then  seizing  her  hand 
impetuously,  led  her  back  to  the  parlor  they  had  quitted,  where  the 
two  ladies  still  discussed  the  ruling  topic. 

"If  you  have  plans  all  laid,  unlay  them  now, or  change.  To-mor- 
row I  claim  Leonore  for  my  wife,  however  you  may  wail ;  and  lest 
she  herself  turn  traitor  to  the  project,  lock  her  into  her  room  at  twi- 
light, and  bar  the  window  against  all  escape.  It  is  my  sovereign  will 
am!  pleasure,"  he  said  imperatively  though  laughing. 

Mrs.  Venard  raised  her  hands  in  deprecation. 
:    "But  the  wedding-dress,  and  '  the  bride's  loaf!'     Impossible  !" 

"The  dress  she  has  on  is  clean  and  whole — that's  •  nough;  and  as 
(or  biide's-loaf,  bread  and  butter  is  far  more  wholesome  if  one  must 
eat  anything — which  I  don't  see." 

"And  won't  see  in  my  house,  and  I  don't  know  how  you'll  manage 
such  a  ceremony  without.  "Was  ever,  ever,  such  an  unreasonable 
man !  Leonore,  assert  your  own  will  upon  this  occasion,  or  forever 
after  don't  expect  to  be  allowed  any !" 

"  It  is  useless.     I  have  been  most  summarily  silenced." 

"You've  learned  the  whole  duty  of  woman,  in  one  easy  lesson, 
eh?  Well,  get  yourselves  married  at  once,  then,  and  as  shabbily  as 
you  please.  There's  no  bread  in  the  house,  and  won't  be  ;  but  it  is 
nobody's  business,  thank  fortune !"  aud  half  vexed,  despite  her 
laughing  philosophy,  Mrs.  Venard  locked  her  arm  through  Mrs. 
Bertram's  and  led  her  away  for  a  secret  council. 

Tortured  as  Lisle  was  by  the  ceaseless  fear  that  something  would- 
preyeut  this  marriage  even  at  the  1  -st  hour,  it  was  with  an  audiblo 


TIES  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLAK8.  243 

sigh  of  relief  that  he  clasped  Leonore's  hand  more  closely  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  ceremony  which  made  her  irrevocably  his,  and  the 
sweetest  words  he  had  ever  heard  were  those  which  addressed  her 
as  "  Mrs.  Sterling."  Each  repetition  of  that  name  sent  a  thrill  to 
his  heart,  audible  confirmation,  as  it  was,  of  a  happiness  which  even 
yet  seemed  unreal  and  illusory.  But  for  the  merriment  of  the  little 
circle  around  them,  the  wedding  would  have  been  a  solemn  affair 
indeed,  deeply  moved  as  were  both  Lisle  and  Leonore  by  secret 
emotions  but  half  confessed  by  either ;  hers,  at  least,  bordering 
closely  upon  the  tragical,  by  the  very  circumstances  she  had  defied 
in  thus  becoming  his  wife  against  what  she  had  declared  her  own 
sense  of  honor,  while  his  own  felicity  was  disturbed  by  the  thought 
that  thus  he  had  brought  her  under  the  shadow  of  the  curse  over- 
hanging his  life,  wholly  unconscious  of  it  as  she  was. 

By  some  enchantment  a  wedding-dress  had  been  evoked,  and 
even  the  bride's  lo:if  entered  a  beautiful  appearance  at  the  proper 
time,  in  utter  refutation  of  Mrs.  Venard's  seeming  inhospitality  in 
exulting  that  there  was  "no  bread  '  with  which  to  honor  ihe  occa- 
sion. It  seems  a  sort  of  righteous  vengeance  upon  the  lords  of  crea- 
tion for  so  universally  eschewing  cake  and  comfits,  that  they  are  po- 
litely compelled  to  do  honor  to  them  upon  their  wedding-day,  and 
Lisle  was  more  liberally  helped,  for  the  vivid  remembrance  that  he 
had  expressed  a  preference  for  bread  and  butter  upon  ;hi=s  occasion. 

Only  Mr.  Bertram,  by  his  taciturn  deportment,  seemed  to  regard 
the  occasion  as  anything  but  a  family  merry-making ;  and  for  his 
unpopular  reproof,  silent  as  it  was,  he  was  compelled  to  suffer 
penance,  and  even  to  be  wrapped  in  a  winding-sheet  as  a  fitting  ac- 
companiment to  his  "  graveyard  face,"  as  it  was  irrevently  termed. 

"  He  always  would  look,  upon  wedding  occasions,  as  though  he 
were  beholding  a  second  Daniel  called  to  judgment, — or,  more 
properly,  cast  into  a  lion's  den,"  his  wife  declaied  ;  and  thus  com- 
pelled in  very  self-defence  to  put  a  better  face  upon  the  matter,  ho 
reserved  his  serious  one  to  grace  the  comments  in  which  he  indulged 
in  the  privacy  of  his  hearthstone. 

"'When  a  man  marries,  he  sees  the  end  of  his  troubles,— but  one 
doesn't  say  which  end,' "  he  quoted  with  proper  emphasis  and 
expression  to  his  wife,  who,  not  captivated  by  the  quotation  already 
worn  quite  threadbare  by  former  applications,  oflered  no  reply,  and 
he  continued  more  seriously  but  with  equal  emphasis. 

"  Lisle  Sterling  has  this  day  entered  into  a  contract  for  the  making 
and  enduring  of  more  misery  than  often  falls  to  the  lot  of  two  inclivid- 


244  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLABS. 

uals,  married  or  single.  Mark  my  words,  Mattie  Bertram !  He 
will  kill  Leonore  by  ceaseless  suspicion  if  not  downright  injustice, 
and  she  will  crag  his  life  and  pride  out  of  him  by  torturing  inches! 
Of  all  the  marriages  I  ever  was  doomed  to  witness,  this  is  the  most 
positively  fearful.  I  really  wished,  for  both  their  svkes,  that  the 
winding-sheet  in  which  you  thought  it  such  sport  to  wrap  me,  had 
been  needed  for  them ;  and  as  surely  as  you  live,  one  or  both  of  them 
will  sigh  for  it  before  three  years  pass  over  their  heads." 

"  Oh,  Bertram;  what  a  kind  of  evil  omen  you  do  make  yourself! 
You  will  fall  into  the  clutches  of  some  ornithologist,  yet,  and  I  thall 
live  to  see  you  stuffed  and  put  up  in  a  museum. 

1  Said  I  to  the  man  what  conducted  the  show, 
Is  this  the  individual  called ' — " 

Before  the  "  William  Barlow "  could  be  added,  her  husband 
checked  her  by  an  exclamation  not  amiably  uttered. 

"  Are  women  possessed  by  the  very  demon  of  malice,  or  what  is  it 
sets  every  mother's  daughter  among  them  quite  demente  1  at  the 
very  name  of  a  wedding  !  No  matter  how  selfish  she  may  have  been 
all  her  life — she  will  sacrifice  the  last  rag  off  her  back  and  go  petti- 
coatless  to  bed.  if  'the  bride"1  has  need  of  it!  You  ought  to  have 
more  sense,  admiration-struck  as  you  have  always  been  with  Leonore, 
and  friend,  as  you  profess  to  be,  to  Lisle  himself!1' 

"  Don't  croak  any  more  to-night,  there's  a  good  f  How !  I'm  de- 
cidedly in  good  spirits,  and  would  like  to  go  to  sleep  so,  just  for  the 
curiosity  of  the  thing.  Variety  is  a  spice  of  which  I  see  so  little  in 
this  respect ;  and  it  is  said  to  be  excellent,"  returned  his  wife  good 
humoredly. 

"  Humph !"  rejoined  Mr.  Bertram  with  his  usual  brief  eloquence  ; 
but  she  did  not  rally  at  the  sound,  battle  cry  as  it  was,  and  actually 
laughed  in  her  sleep,  after  it ! 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLABS.  245 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  WELL,  mother,  Lisle  is  married,"  announced  Edward  as  he  and 
Julie  returned  from  their  drive  to  the  post-office,  with  the  expected 
letter. 

"  What !  Lisle  married  ?"  ejaculated  the  old  lady  placing  her 
spectacles  high  upon  her  forehead  and  fixing  her  eyes  upon  Ed- 
ward incredulously. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  are  unbelieving — such  a  woman-hater  'as  he 
was  by  instinct — excuse  me,  Julie  ;  I  mean  by  nature.  Many  is  the 
time  I  have  seen  him  climb  the  fence  and  mike  a  detour  through 
the  bushes  to  avoid  meeting  in  the  road  a  well-behaved,  inoffensive 
sunbonnei !  I  thought  he'd  go  into  fits  once  when  he  got  hung  by 
his  little  breeches  to  a  rail,  and  couldn't  get  down  till  the  old  fem- 
inine was  fairly  upon  him,  a  decent  old  party  who  merely  ejaculated 
'  ma-^sy  sakes  !'  as  the  sound  of  ripping  and  tearing  saluted  her  ears 
in  Lisk's  last  desperate  struggle  to  get  a  clearance.  He  seemed  to 
think  old  women  perambulated  the  country,  upon  spanking  tours ; 
and  the  girls  shamed  him  by  making  him  play  light  infantry  parts, 
long  after  he  was  too  large  to  be  carried 'visiting'  and  have  his 
gums  felt  of  relatively  to  '  teething.'  Thus  he  owed  a  grudge  to  the 
whole  sex." 

"  He  was  the  merest  sneak  of  a  child ;  that's  true ;''  affirmed  Mrs. 
Sterling  scornfully;  "  a  perfect  girl-baby  that  all  (he  boys  despised, 
and  no  wonder.  Nobo  ly  knows  the  cross  he  was  to  me !  Precious 
little  Fitzjames  there  is  ;n  him  !" 

"  Why,  mother,  the  last  time  he  was  here  you  insisted  that  he  was 
the  living  image  of  some  feminine  Fitzjames  now  invisible  to  mortal 
ken  !  I  roally  fancied  you  were  going  to  take  him  into  favor  for  his 
foresight  and  ^ elf-providence  in  the  matter." 

"I  never  said  he  was  like,  for  I  never  thought  it,"  asserted  Mrs. 
Sterling  stoutly.  "  He  is  his  father  all  over  again,  as  I  knew  ha 
would  be." 

"  Well,  he  certainly  is  as  gifted  in  personal  resemblances  as  a  c.it 


246  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLABS. 

is  said  to  be  in  lives.  Father  will  be  glad  to  know  he's  all  '  Ster- 
ling,'at  last— though  only  yesterday  you  said  he  was  'all  Kelley,' as 
you  often  do." 

"  Well,  I  say  so  now,  don't  I  ?    And  he's  married,  is  he  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  I'm  to  be  adopted  into  his  family.  He  writes  me  that 
he  has  it  all  arranged,  and  will  liave  it  so ;  and  I'm  very  sure  he  will 
encounter  no  opposition  from  me.  I  never  did  fancy  being  a  ruero 
pilUpeddler  in  a  country  town." 

"What,  Edward!  go  away,  and  your  uncle  Jonathan's  whole 
family  down  with  the  measles P'  sai  1  Mrs.  Sterling  with  surprised 
reproof. 

"  Yes,  it  is  an  extensive  practice,  I  know ;  but  I'm  not  sure  I 
should  earn  either  fortune  or  fame  out  of  it,  if  I  remained.  There's 
a  very  good  boil  and  rheumatism  run  of  custom,  too,  that  I'll  make 
over,  gratis,  to  whoever  will  take  my  place  here." 

"  But  you've  got  all  Doctor  Kelley's  old  practice,  I'm  sure." 

"No,  mother, I've  put  most  of  it  under  ground,  and  it  doesn't 
eeem  to  sprout  up  again.  Someway  modern  practice  doesn't  seem  to 
agree  with  ancient  constitutions.  It  is  like  putting  new  wine  into 
old  bottles,  and,  as  father  would  say,  '  there's  scripter  against  it.' 
I  must  seek  a  new  field  where  constitutions  are  less  cranky  and  set 
in  their  way." 

"  Who  on  earth  ever  would  marry  Lisle  ?  She  can't  be  much," 
said  tlie  old  lady  abruptly  returning  to  the  subject. 

"  That  a  mother-in-law's  welcome,  I'm  sure,"  laughed  Edward, 
vexed  as  he  was  by  her  life-long  detraction  of  Lisle  for  whom  she 
had  never  shown  anything  like  maternal  affection.  "  I'll  take  the 
news  to  father,  who  will  give  it  a  warmer  welcome." 

"What  is  it  to  him  ?"  demanded  the  old  lady  irately. 

"  A  new  daughter  at  least,  if  not  that  perpetuity  of  the  family 
name,  so  dear  to  most  old  people.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lisle  Sterling 
ought  at  once  to  be  introduced  to  the  second  page  of  the  family 
record  in  the  big  Bible  still  guiltless  of  anything  better  than  a 
suggestive  arrays  of  blanks  after  the  important  babel  'married.' 
Father  will  record  it  before  he  eats  his  dinner." 

"  What  did  you  say  her  name  is,  Edward  ?" 

"  Leonore  Wakefield  '  that  teas,'  as  old  ladies  have  it,  is  Leonore 
Sterling." 

"Leonore  Wakefield,  that  is  to  say — Leouore  Kelley — wi!e  of  Wil- 
liam Kelley,  deceased — and  Julie  his  half  sister,"  murmured  llr.«. 
Sterling  incoherently,  as  the  vacant  look  so  familiar  to  her  face, 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  247 

came  over  it  again ;  and  having  swayed  herself  to  and  fro  in  mo- 
mentary silence,  she  sj.rang  up  exclaiming  angrily,  "  It's  all  a  lie,  a 
base  lie,  I  don't  caro  who  says  it.  The  doctor  was  a  hypocrite,  but 
he's  still  looke  I  on  as  a  saint.  Who'll  believe  it  ?" 

She  looked  upon  her  auditors  in  angry  questioning  ;  but  no  reply 
being  given  to  so  strange  a  salutation,  she  turned  and  walked 
abruptly  away. 

Julie  turned  a  half  terrified  glance  toward  Edward,  who  said  with 
something  like  grim  satisfaction, 

"  Ob,  Lord,  thy  judgments  are  just !  It  verily  seems  like  a  retri- 
bution upon  her,  that  all  her  mental  trouble  is  suffered  for  Lisle's 
sake.  Do  you  remark  that  it  is  only  when  his  name  is  mentioned 
that  these  freaks  come  over  her  ?  One  would  really  think  .that  the 
sound  of  it  is  a  maddening  reproach  which  she  cannot  endure.  She 
has  hated  him  from  his  birth,  but  he  is  avenged." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  I  am  so  glad  you  will  go  away  with  me!  Every 
thing  here  is  so  dreary  and  horrible ;  while  you  and  Lisle  will  be  so 
happy  together  again." 

"  I  don't  know  ;  he  is  married  now,  and  matrimony  changes  every 
one,  however  unconsciou-ly  to  himself.  I  could  feel  jealous  of  his 
wife  for  coining  between  us,  did  I  not  know  how  unreasonable  it 
would  be." 

"  Lisle  is  married,  and  you  may  be.  When  you  find  some  one  who 
cares  for  you  more  than  a  brother  ever  could,  you  will  make  the  ex- 
change with  full  as  little  compunction,  without  asking  if  you  are 
wronging  him." 

"Do  you  think  that  is  possible,  Julie?  Would  Iny  one  care  that 
much  for  me,  even  if  I  had  hung  their  doll-babies  and  bled  their  old 
'Mahomets'  in  my  less  well-behaved  days  ?" 

She  colored  under  the  peculiar  look  he  bent  upon  her  as  he  asked 
the  laughing  question,  and  the  suspicion  seized  her  that  a  deeper 
meaning  lay  beneath — a  thought  for  which  she  the  next  instant  re- 
proved herself.  Over  one  year  ago  she  had  made  the  same  mistake 
in  regard  to  Lisle,  she  would  never  be  so  foolish  again.  It  was  still 
loss  probably  that  Edward  regarded  her  as  anything  dearer  than  a 
friend  and  companion,  reared  together  as  they  had  been,  often 
enough  seriously  at  variance  when  she  resented  his  boyish  cruelty 
to  her  pets.  She  was  only  the  well-grown  "  dummy  "  of  his  child- 
hood, whom  Punch  and  Judy  had  cea-e!  to  amuse,  and  toward 
whom  he  was  merely  '•  varying  his  treatment,"  as  he  doubtlessly 
mentally  commented.  The  long  and  repeated  separations  between 


248  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLARS. 

them  hal  quite  destroyed  (he  old  time  tie  of  brother  and  ?i«!er.  ns 
she  felt  while  blaming  hei  self  for  being  obliged  !o  confess:  a  ul  ilu-ir 
mutual  relationship  w<:s  altogether  free  from  the  careless  freedom  of 
fraternal  intercourse. 

Edward  noted  the  fact  before  she  furly  admitted  it  to  herself,  and 
he  secretly  rejoiced  nt  it,  first  step  in  his  progress  as  it  wa-.  i 
for  him  that  she  should  regard  him  with  utttr  indifference,  than 
that  she  should  love  him  only  as  a  brother  and  so  m  >ek  him  with  a 
species  of  affection  he  could  not  tolerate  from  her.  He  h.-id  now  ns 
much  in  his  favor  as  any  stranger ;  he  would  win  or  lose  in  a  f  iir 
field ;  and  his  heart  gave  one  exulting  bound  as  he  marked  the 
blush  his  words  had  called  up.  It  was  the  first  gleain  of  real  en- 
couragement that  had  dawned  upon  him ;  and  he  tre  sured  it  ac- 
cordingly. 

Unhesitatingly,  joyfully  adopting  Lis'e's  project  for  his  change  of 
residence,  he  sat  about  it  at  once,  despit -•  his  father's  weak-minded 
opposition.  Mr.  Sterling  had  always  considered  a  city  as  the  very 
sink  of  iniquity,  and  its  people  utterly  given  over  to  ungo  lliness 
and  evil-doing ;  and  the  idea  of  his  sons  thus  being  given  over  to 
the  pow«.r  of  the  tempter,  was  a  horrible  one.  Tlie  awful  <-tory  of 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  v.a^  hourly  repea'ed  as  a  warning  agni: 
cities,  and  when  it  was  disregarded,  he  proceeded  to  personal  pro- 
test, 

"I  never  approved  of  Lisle's  deserting  his  own  country  and 
off  to  the  southern  one  to  live  ;  but  he  was  out  from  under  my  guar- 
dianship, as  he  had  so  long  looked  only  to  his  uncle,  fle  always 
was  a  proud  boy,  and  not  enough  like  the  Sterlings  to  heed  any 
warning  or  advice  when  he'd  got  his  mind  set  on  a  thing.  Don't 
you  rush  headlong  into  destruction  by  flying  agninst  the  wishes  of 
them  that  are  placed  over  you  by  an  all-wi;e  and  merciful  Provi- 
dence/' 

'•  I  don't  know  whether  my  being  '  let  down '  at  the  mill  ho-: 
grandmother  used  to  have  it.  is  altogether  a  striking  proof  of  wisdom 
and  mercy.     I  used  even  to  doubt  it,  ;;s  you  nvy  remember, 
ever  you  may  call  it,  I'm  sure  I  can  improve  upon  the  idea,  and  I 
claim  the  privilege.'' 

"  '  Honor  your  father  and  your  mother,  that  your  days  nny  be  long 
in  the  land,'"  said  the  old  gentleman  impres-ive  y.     "In  m 
children  were  respectful  to  ti  cir  parents.     I  never  thought  of  - 
up  my  will  against  that  of  my  lather,  nor  of  my  mother  wh: 
kept  her  reason." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  249 

Mrs.  Sterling  took  up  the  reply.  Whatever  her  wishes  might 
have  been,  uninfluenced  by  her  husband's  opinion,  his  disapproba- 
tion of  any  project  was  always  sufficient  reason  for  her  advocating  it; 
and  she  came  to  Edward's  defence  with  her  usual  system  of  tactics. 

"  And  who  are  you,  or  your  parents,  that  you  should  set  yourself 
up  to  judge  a  real  Fit zjanies  like  Edward?  You  Sterlings  always 
were  a  siow  thinking,  bat  like  lot,  a  hundred  years  behind  the  times  ; 
and  the  old  woman,  crazy  as  she  was,  had  more  seuse  left  iu  her  than 
all  the  rest  of  you  put  together  ever  had.  Ton  know  how  much  that 
was.  You  ought  to  know  that  them  that  has  plenty  of  spirit,  and 
an  ambition  to  get  to  be  something  in  the  world,  can't  go  inaudling 
through  life  like  you  Sterlings." 

Mr.  Sterling  looked  up  meekly,  yet  with  some  honest  pride,  as  he 
answered, 

"I  know,  Lydia,  we  ain't  so  brilliant  as  some,  and  never  were; 
but  we  are  honest,  hard-working,  God-fearing  people,  and  I  never 
knew  any  one  of  the  name  to  do  a  mean  or  low  thing.  We  deserve 
respect,  at  least." 

"  Well,  for  my  part  I  don't  know  what's  meaner  and  lower  than 
stinginess,"  resorted  his  wife  bitterly.  "  It  mayn't  take  a  man  to 
the  gallows,  but  it  ought  to.  Lisle  may  have  hitched  a  decent 
reputation  to  the  name,  and  Edward  is  right  to  go  where  he'll  have 
the  benefit  of  it." 

The  old  man  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair,  and  rubbed  his  large 
red  knuckles  with  the  palm  of  each  hand  alternately,  as  if  fancying 
that,  like  the  Wonderful  Lamp  of  Aladdin,  they  were  capable  of 
vast  resources  under  judicious  friction,  but  no  satisfactory  logic 
having  been  derived  from  the  process,  he  deposited  them  in  a  heap 
upon  his  knee,  and  said  in  a  cowed  manner, 

"  I  ain't  finding  fault  with  our  boys,  Lydia.  They  are  good  boys, 
and  I'm  thankful  they  are  smarter  than  their  father;  but  it's  nateral, 
nnd  it's  right,  for  parents* to  want  to  keep  their  children  at  home." 

"  '  Children  !'  One  of 'em  is  married,  and  the  other  old  enough  to 
be.  You'll  never  realize  it  till  you  see  a  snail  of  grand  children 
nr  amd  under  foot." 

Silenced  but  uot  convinced,  he  said  no  more,  only  shaking  his 
lioad  seriously  from  time  to  time  rts  preparations  for  the  departure 
were  completed.  Separation  usually  opens  wide  the  heart  before 
closing  it  forever,  and  Mrs.  Sterling  grew  quite  corditl  towaid 
Julie,  in  its  bare  contemplation,  making  a  last  effort  even  at  com- 
liin<  nt. 


250  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

"  I  expect  the  next  I  hear  of  you,  will  be  that  you  are  a  marrieJ 
lady  ever  so  fine  and  gay !  There  ain't  many  any  prettier  than  you  are. 
The  Kelleys  must  have  been  a  handsome  race,  for  your  father  was 
something  wonderful  here  among  these  common  people.  Common 
folks  will  look  common,  and  you  can't  beat  it  out  of  'em !" 

Edward  laughed.  "  That's  a  clencher,  mother,  for  you  know  what 
'  can't  be  beaten  out,'  won't  come  out  at  all.  There's  nothing  like 
maternal  experience  !" 

"  One  thing  I  wish  could  be  beaten  into  you,  even  yet.  You've 
no  more  gallantry  in  you  than  an  off  ox!  I  don't  believe  you  ever 
said  boo  to  a  girl,  or  ever  will." 

"  The  fact  is,  when  I  was  young  enough  to  have  used  so  persua- 
sive a  word  of  endearment  as  '  boo,'  I  was  so  ragged  or  bepatched 
that  the  girls  wouldn't  listen  to  me.  The  idea  of  a  fellow  being  iu 
love  with  a  patch  on  his  breeches  !  Julie,  were  you  ever  in  love  ?" 

She  looked  embarrassed  and  self-conscious,  but  gayly  replied, 

"  Why,  to  be  sure  !  Didn't  half  my  candy  money  go  for  senti- 
mental cards,  which,  as  everybody  who  ever  had  an  attack  of  'first 
affection,'  knows  are  most  indispensable  accompaniments  !  As  long 
ago,  too,  as  I  can  remember,  some  youngster  whose  viry  name  I  have 
forgotten,  gave  me  a  gold  washed  ring  with  an. emblematical  heart 
on  it,  which  I  verily  thought,  for  ever  so  long,  was  a  flat  iron  !  and 
as  I  remember  it  now,  it  certainly  did  more  resemble  one  ! ' 

"If  you  don't  go  through  anything  more  serious  than  that,  you'll 
never  know  what  trouble  is,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Sterling  oracularly. 
"  Think  if  you  should  git  rnaniedto  find  yourself  tied  to  a  skiuflint ! 
That's  trouble." 

Mr.  Sterling  raised  his  head  with  something  like  spirit. 

"  Seems  to  me  you  are  talking  awful  foolish.  The  troubles  as  come 
through  courting  and  buch  nonsense,  are  all  imagination ;  nothing 
else.  Wait  till  the  potatoes  get  the  rot  in  spite  of  a  merciful  Provi- 
dence, and  the  very  hoive  you  drive  to  meeting  eats  himself  up  twice 
over  every  year,  what  with  the  high  prico  of  feed,  and  you'll  begin 
to  see  facts  instead  of  imagination.  I  shan't  have  anything  to  leave 
you,  Edward,  and  it's  right  you  should  be  told  it  in  time  to  calcu- 
late according." 

"I  thought  it  would  bring  up  in  money,"  sneered  Mr«.  Sterling; 
"  but  it  w.  s  going  a  long  way  round  to  tell  you,  Edward,  that  he 
never  intends  to  give  you  a  cent  after  you  go  away." 

"  I  never  did  h-.ivc  so  many  that  I  shall  miss  them.  I  don't  want 
any,  father." 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   TliE   POPLAIIS.  251 

Mrs.  Sterling  pulled  her  son  by  the  sleeve,  and  whispered, 

"  Your  father  is  richer  than  you  think,  and  I'll  see  that  you  get 
your  share  when  he's  done  with  it.  Lisle  shan't  walk  off  with  all 
this,  as  I've  no  doubt  your  father  would  like ;  he  ain't  entitled  to  a 
dollar  of  it,  and  he  shan't  have  it.  You  are  the  only  one  of  my 
children  I  ever  cared  for,  and  I'll  look  out  for  you — see  if  I  don't. 
When  will  you  come  to  see  me  ?" 

"  Whenever  you  want  me,  if  I  can.  I'm  not  going  to  the  Pole, 
mother.'1 

They  were  ready  for  a  start,  at  last,  and  leaving  his  wifo  sobbing 
iu  the  door,  Mr.  Sterling  followed  them  to  the  carriage. 

"Don't  lay  up  anything  against  your  mother,  Edward,  neither  on 
your  own  account  or  Lisle's.  She's  had  a  hard,  dull  life  of  it,  and 
is  failing  fast  in  her  mind.  I  never  was  the  kind  of  husband  she 
ought  to  have  married,  and  I've  often  wondered  how  she  come  to 
take  up  with  me.  I  ain't  in  any  way  her  equal,  and  it's  maybe 
nateral  she  should  kind  of  despise  me.  I  don't  mind  it  of  her. 
She's  always  been  a  good  wife  to  me ;  I'll  say  that." 

There  was  a  mistiness  in  his  eyes,  and  he  spoke  the  last  words 
kindly,  even  tenderly  for  him.  Edward  shook  the  hand  his  father 
extended  him  in  parting,  and,  little  reverent  as  he  was  by  nature,  a 
something  that  was  more  than  admiration  of  the  patient,  laithi'ulold 
man,  blended  with  the  compassion  he  felt  for  him. 

What  would  have  been  his  emotions  toward  him,  had  he  known, 
as  did  Lisle,  that  this  to  him  incomprehensible  marriage  in  which 
the  poor  victim  felt  himself  so  honored,  was  a  shameful  story  begin- 
ning in  dishonor  and  en'ding  in  contempt,  heaped  upon  him  by  the 
unscrupulous  woman  in  whose  praise  he  always  testified,  and  to 
whose  children  he  appealed  to  judge  her  tenderly?  Edward  might 
do  so;  but  Lisle  never  could  find  one  pleading  voice  for  her  hi  the 
heart  she  had  outraged  from  the  timo  of  its  earliest  throb.  Mora 
than  suspecting  that  he  knew  the  miserable  secret  of  his  birth,  she 
had  watched  him  with  a  jealous  eye  from  the  hour  that  made  it 
known  to  him,  and,  callous  against  the  contempt  she  knew  he  must 
feel  toward  her,  she  gloried  in  the  consciousness  that  he  must  suffer 
every  pang  a  spirit  so  proud  could  suffer  under  such  a  load  of 
shame.  Young  as  he  had  learned  it,  pride  and  natural  reserve  had 
prevented  him  from  lisping  one  word,  as  she  knew  it  would.  Mr. 
Sterling  still  clung  to  him  with  that  partiality  over  his  other  chil- 
dren that  had  followed  him  from  his  childhood,  and  his  wife  was 
too  calculating  and  ungenerous  to  see  that  in  very  pity  Lisle  returned 


252  TUB   HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLAU3. 

him  an  affection  and  tender  respect  that  ho  might  never  othe:  wise 
have  conceived  for  him. 

They  were  separated  now,  it  was  true,  and  her  own  f.-.vorite 
would  soon  be  far  from  her  sight.  Let  the  old  man  doat  on  his 
false  son  whom  he  doubtless  meant  to  make  his  heir ;  she  would,  if 
necessary,  defy  Lisle  to  accept  such  a  benefaction  from  one  upon 
whom  he  had  no  claim,  or  to  share  one  dollar  of  the  est  ite  left  by 
the  old  man  who  owed  it  to  his  children.  It  never  occurred  to  her 
that  L:sle  himself  would  adopt  such  a  view  of  the  affair :  judging 
him  by  herself,  as  she  did,  he  "would  take  all  that  was  offered  him, 
and  feel  a  real  triumph  over  her  that  he  had  secured  it;  and  ?  :c 
planned  and  schemed  in  her  busy  brain  over  the  old  man's  de  ith, 
with  a  malice  that  increasing  years  had  done  nothing  to  deaden.  It 
was  as  if  the  whole  strength  of  her  nature  found  expression  in  three 
sentiments ;  affection  for  her  second  born,  hatred  of  Lisle,  a;-.d  con- 
tempt for  her  husband.  It  was  not  so  much  the  voice  of  conscience, 
as  this  ever  present  hatred  and  contempt,  that  kept  her  seciet  forever 
on  her  lips  and  caused  her  so  nearly  to  reveal  it  In  the  clays  of  her 
strength,  she  had  kept  it  under  by  force  of  will;  but  her  strength 
and  her  will  were  leaving  her  now,  and  she  never  seemed  to  realize 
the  danger  that  menaced  her  from  her  own  lips  and  deportment, 
protected  as  she  was  only  by  tha  unsuspecting  minds  around  her} 
which  attributed  her  words  to  a  disordered  intellect,  rather  than 
recognized  them  as  the  revelations  of  a  weakened  one. 

After  Edward's  and  Julie's  departure,  the  lipple  their  presence 
had  created  upon  the  monotonous  surface  of  life  at  the  mill-house 
g  ive  place  once  more  to  the  old  time  dreariness.     The  very  mirrors, 
unpretending  and  amb  tionless  as  they  were.  urL-w  we:iry  of  the  un- 
varying reflections  to  which  they  were  condemned,  while  the  old 
eight-day  clock  seemed  to  grow  taller  and  narrower,  day  by  <_1 
its  shadowed  niche  where  it  swung  a  ponderous  pendulum  in  air 
with  a  never  ceasing  "  tick-tack  "  whose  com  plaining  voice  di 
chronicled  the  hours  as  they  went  dragging  by. 

Loveless  and  cheerless  as  the  old  place  ever  had  been,  Edward 
turned  hopefully  to  the  new  life  that  beckoned  him  on,  stro;i0'  in 
•will  to  do,  and  joyful  in  heart  that  tins  he  was  to  be  reunite-!  to  thu 
brother  whose  exile  years  before  had  snapped  the  last  natural  fibre 
that  bound  his  heart  to  their  boyhood's  home. 


'  "What  limb  of  the  evil  one  is  that  who  serves  you  as  gardener, 
Lisle  V  asked  Edward  the  morning  after  his  arrival,  as  he  C..HK-  in  from 


THE   nOTTSTS    BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  253 

a  (our  of  the  grounds  whose  beauty  had  attracted  him  from  his  pil- 
low long  before  the  household  was  astir.  "With  imperturbable  grav- 
ity, Lisle  replied. 

"That  is  the  'unprofitable  partner '  of  my  worthy  housekeeper ; 
and  he  rejoicis  in  the  name  of  Joseph — commonly  styled  Joe." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  shame  to  obscure  his  brilliant  talents  under  so 
humble  a  calling'.  He  would  make  a  splendid  politician;  he  has 
every  requisite  for  that  protean  and  devious  calling." 

"  Yes,  I  flatter  myself  that  he  has  talents  of  a  rather  uncommon 
order.  Has  he  already  revealed  them  to  your  admiration  ?'' 

"  I  may  say  lie  has  dimly  foreshadowed  them,  though  ho  would 
doubtlessly  do  himself  and.  your  choice  more  credit  under  more 
favorable  auspices.  He  was  hampered  by  a  limited  field  for  opera- 
tions.'' 

"Been  'speculating,'  as  he  calls  it,  I  presume.  Were  you  so 
unsophisticated  as  to  entrust  him  with  money  ?" 

"Not  much.  I  sent  him  for  some  cigars,  as  he  was  seemingly 
overburdened,  with  leisure.  The  doz^n  turned,  out  only  ten,  and 
the  change  was  as  short  as  it  well  could  be  and  be  any.  I  didn't 
accuse  him.  for  he  looked  so  sanctimonious  I  really  couldn't ;  but  I 
admire  his  talent." 

"  And  his  assurance,  you  will  add  when  you  have  seen  it.  We'll 
have  him  in  when  breakfast  is  over.  He  is  a  cool  genius." 

When  breakfast  was  served  and  dispatched,  Lisle  touched  the 
bell,  and  the  dismissed  waiter  reappeared. 

"Send  Jo-eph  to  me,"  he  said  briefly;  and  Leonore  raised  the 
morning  paper,  that  she  might  at  least  seemingly  be  interested  in 
its  contents,  and  so  avoid  the  appealing  looks  she  knew  Joseph 
would  turn  upon  her  if  he  were  severely  quizzed ;  or  even  justly 
reproved.  After  a  brief  interval  his  lagging  footsteps  were  heard 
approaching,  and  in  due  time  he  appeared  in  the  doorway,  bowing 
subduedly  over  his  rather  mature  hat  into  whose  crown  his  eyes 
remained  devoutly  bent. 

"Did  you  buy  some  cigars  this  morning  for  Doctor  Sterling  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  It  wasn't,  strictly  speaking,  my  business,  but  I  did  it 
che;  rfully." 

"  I've  no  doubt ;  but  you  brought  only  ten  instead  of  twelve. 
How  is  this  ?•' 

Joseph  moved  uneasily  from  one  foot  to  the  o  her,  and  lifted  a 
glance  of  profound  reproach  to  Edward's  f  ice,  before  replying  in  a 
melancholy  tone,  "I  was  obleeged  to  give  back  two,  because  t,;e 


254  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   TOPLAUS. 

boy  couM n't  make  even  change  for  a  dozen.  Small  change  is 
getting  tremendous  scarce,  sir." 

"  Just  so  the  doctor  thought  this  morning  Now,  Joseph,  make 
up  the  account." 

With  another  reproachful  glance  around  him  which  no  one  re- 
sponded to,  he  with  a  sigh  of  wordless  complaint  slowly  turneil  one 
of  h  s  pockets  inside  out,  and  evolved  from  its  deepest  corner  a  pica- 
yune which  he  placed  ne  ir  Edward's  cup. 

"Well,  go  on,"  said  Lisle  encouragingly,  as  Joseph  hesitated. 

Another  profound  sigh  accompanied  a  similar  experiment  upon 
(he  other  pocket,  and  a  dime  reluctantly  appeared  and  was  laid  be- 
side the  picayune. 

"Goon,  Joseph;  be  honest,  for  once,  if  it  takes  a  limb!"  Lisle 
again  exhorted  ;  and  too  much  depressed  even  to  sigh,  Josepli  pulled 
forward  one  of  his  coat-tails,  from  whicli  he  dragged  forth  a  quarter, 
bent  on  it  a  most  affectionate  gaze,  and  retained  it  in  his  not  fastidi- 
ous palm. 

"  Well,  proceed.    You  improve  with  every  effort." 

Throwing  back  the  coat-tail  he  had  ret-iined  between  his  thtimb 
nnd  finger,  Joseph  tapped  his  reversed  hat  upon  the  crown,  shook 
his  coat  by  the  collar  and  his  pantaloons  by  the  logs,  then  raised  his 
cm;,ty  hands  in  testimony  that  nothing  more  was  to  be  found.  Tho 
comically  serious  expression  of  his  lantern-jawed  face  effected  Ed- 
ward's risibles,  and  Julie  echoed  the  laugh.  Lisle  looked  still  in- 
credulou0,  and  reading  the  injurious  doubt  of  his  innocence,  Joseph 
raised  his  eyes  and  hands  toward  the  ceiling  in  solemn  attestation, 
as  he  dolefully  exclaimed, 

"  In  the  name  of  my  mother  and  my  unknown  father,  Tve  stole 
only  one  little,  sad,  miserable  picayune!  It's  little  enough,  lord 
kr.ows  1" 

"  So  it  is,"  laughed  Edward,  "  and  since  you  confess  that  you  did 
steal  it,  nothing  more  is  necessary.  Accept  my  blessing,  oh,  Joseph, 
and  the  quarter  with  it ;  and  may  the  reward  of  a  virtuous  con- 
science go  with  you." 

With  a  gesture  of  virtuous  resignation,  Joseph  placed  upon  tho 
table  the  coin  he  had  heretofore  been  unable  to  release,  say  ng  with 
an  air  of  \ lous  dignity, 

"No,  sir,  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to  keep  what  is  plain  enough  be- 
grudged mo.  That  as  I  isn't  welcome  to,  I  couldn't  take  from  ar.y 
body.  There  is  them  as  nin't  dead  set  agin  a  poor  fellow  making  a 
little  something  by  way  of  speculation  ;  but  from  them  as  is,  I  <Jou't 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  255 

want  a  cent,"  and  turning  away  he  awaited  Lisle's  dismissing  signal. 
A  general  laugh  followed  bis  retreating  figure,  to  which  he  stop- 
ped in  the  hall  to  listen. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  if  the  madam  laughs,  too,"  he  muttered  to  him- 
self as  he  resumed  his  retreat,  shaking  his  head  with  a  sinister  look. 

"  Is  the  fellow  i Jiotic,  or  a  sanctimonious  hypocrite  ?''  Ed  ward 
cjeculated  when  the  merriment  had  subsided. 

"How can  you  fancy  him  one  or  the  other,  after  such  a  manifest  i- 
tion  of  his  peculiar  talents'  He  is  merely  an  advocate  for  communi- 
ty of  property,  though,  like  mosf  disciples  of  that  school  of  politics, 
he  approves  of  others  dividing  with  him,  as  he  has  nothing  to  divide. 
He  certainly  is  the  coolest  dog  I  ever  knew,  and  I  have  to  keep  ;i 
continual  watch  over  him  to  restrain  hi?  friendly  overtures  to  my 
guests  whom  he  is  always  encountering  in  the  grounds.  He  was 
about  proffering  a  handshake  to  the  governor  the  other  day,  and 
when  by  any  chance  he  goes  with  the  carriage,  he  always  has  to  be 
told  to  sit  with  the  coachman,  or  he'd  take  first-class  passage.  If 
he  doesn't  sit  in  the  high  places  of  this  world,  it  won't  be  for  want 
(f  pushing  himself  into  them." 

"  What  induces  you  to  keep  the  fellow?    It  can't  be  his  beauty.'' 

"  Well,  no ;  not  altogether  that,  though  it  has  its  weight.  I  must 
confess  that  the  ruling  motive,  is  his  legally  acquired  prerogative 
of  keeping  my  worthy  old  housekeeper  in  grief  and  affliction. 
While  he  is  in  my  service  I  can  restrain  him  within  certain  limits 
and  I  feel  bound  to  do  it  in  return  for  the  years  of  faithful  service 
the  old  dame  lias  rendered  me,  and  uncle  before  me.  Beside,  Leonoro 
has  taken  such  a  fancy  to  him  that  nothing  could  induce  me  to  de- 
prive her  of  him." 

"  //"  Leonore  exclaimed  in  utter  surprise. 

"  Yes  I  think  so.  Don't  you  exercis-e  the  most  saint-like  patience 
and  forbearance  toward  him  upon  all  occasions,  even  interposing  be- 
tween him  and  my  sometimes  righteous  indignation  ?  If  it  isn't  ad- 
miration, what  it  is  ?" 

She  colored,  but  replied  carelessly, 

"Oh,  one  doesn't  like  to  live  under  a  continual  regime  of  arre  t 
and  dealing  out  judgment.  It  seems  to  me  better  to  resign  one'* 
self  to  a  certain  degree  of  victimizing,  without  seeming  to  see  it.  I 
should  not  regret  Joseph's  absence,  but  I  do  protest  against  repeated 
skirmishes  on  the  moral  fi<-lrl,  in  which  it  o  ten  happens  that  you 
come  off  less  than  victorious." 

Lisle  la-ighed.     "Truth  to  confess,  one  does  feel  a  certain  sense, 


200  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE    POPLARS. 

of  humiliation  while  looking  upon  so  sanctimonious  and  melancholy 
a  phiz  and  preferring  charges  of  rascality  against  its  owner.  I  don't 
like  to  feel  uncomfortable,  and  I  certainly  prefer  kicking  the  rascal 
out  of  my  service  !  I  told  you  why  I  don't.  The  poor  old  woman 
seems  fated  to  be  tied  to  some  crying  torment.  In  uncle's  time,  it 
was  the  fat  boy  Billy,  who  took  to  wife  the  crooked-waisted  Melissa, 
and  is  scarcely  abated  as  a  nuisance  even  yet.  I  suppose  all  such 
nuisai  ces  should  be  kept  in  the  family,  and  I  some  way  feel  as 
though  I  fell  heir  to  them  with  the  estate." 

"  By  the  way,"  asked  Edward,  "  have  you  ever  heard  anything  of 
that  graceless  Louis  Hartley,  since  he  decamped  ?" 

"  No.  I  never  made  any  effort  to  find  him,  because  uncle  ex- 
pjessly  enjoined  that  he  was  to  go  unwhipped  by  justice.  I  don't 
care  anything  for  the  sum  he  stolen  ;  but  if  I  ever  meet  him  I  will 
hold  him  responsible  for  his  shameful  ingratitude  to  uncle,  whose 
death  he  caused  as  effectually  as  if  he  had  stabbed  him  to  the  heart 
•with  a  visible  weapon.  He  is  literally  and  truly  Irs  murderer." 

"  Poor  old  gentleman,  he  deserved  a  better  return  for  his  good- 
ness.1' 

Julie  felt  the  hot  blood  rush  to  her  temples  as  Lisle's  words  fell 
upon  her  ear,  and  could  hardly  summon  courage  to  speak  the  words 
she  resolved  to  utter ;  but  making  an  effort,  she  asked  as  composed-1 
ly  as  possible, 

*'  How  can  you  make  so  fearful  a  charge  against  him.  No  one 
can  doubt  that  Mr.  Fitzjames  must  have  been  grieved  by  the  se^m- 
ing  ingratitude  of  his  protege,  but  '  murderer  '  is  a.  hard  word." 

41  Could  you  have  seen  poor  Uncle  after  Louis  robbed  him  and 
fic.l,  you  would  not  wonder  that  I  apply  harsh  names  to  him! 
Uncle  loved  him  better  than  he  might  have  loved  an  own  son,  and 
he  never  holdup  his  head  after  what  you  term  Louis'  'seeminy 
ingiatilude.'  He  was  slowly  and  surely  dying  under  it,  when  a 
second  but  mysterious  shock  completed  his  work ;  not  from  Louis, 
T  am  almost  convinced,  though  he  in  iy  have  been  implicated  in  it. 
I  never  have  told  this  to  any  one ;  but  as  we  are  a  family  party,  stictly, 
and  the  subject  has  come  up,  I  will  teil  you  something  that  always 
porpk-xes  me  when  I  think  of  it,  with  jut  furnishing  the  1<  ast  clue 
to  an  explanation. 

Ju.-t  before  uncle  wns  att-ickcl  by  tho  paralytic  stroke  which 
ended  his  lift,  he  received  a  lett-.-r  to  the  effect  of  which  there  is  no 
doubt  that  stroke  was  attributable,  weak  and  cnfe'.b'el  as  he  was 
by  trouble.  I  myself  gave  him  tho  letter  as  I  solo- .•(  1  my  own 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TDK   POPLARS.  257 

from  the  number  brought  in,  and  I  remarked  nothing  in  particular 
concerning  it,  except  that  it  was  evidently  a  lady's  letter,  of  -which 
I  had  never  knowu  him  receive  any  before.  Occupied  with  my 
own  correspondence,  I  paid  no  attention  to  anything  else  till  a  gasp 
that  was  more  like  a  sob  startled  me,  and  I  looked  up  to  see  the  old 
gentlem;m  bending  forward  over  the  arms  of  his  chair,  with  a  look 
of  utter  sorrow  and  pain  upon  his  kind  old  face.  Alarmed  at  this 
expression,  I  spoke  to  him.  He  smiled  sadly  as  his  brimming  eyes 
met  mine,  and  made  an  evident  effort  to  rise,  which  was  ineffectual. 
Seeing  that  he  wanted  something,  I  rose  to  assist  him;  but  ho 
merely  handed  me  the  letter  begging  me  to  burn  it,  and  I  did  so 
while  his  eyes  watched  the  process  with -a  wistful  expression 
impossible  to  describe.  My  curiosity  quite  aroused,  I  observed  the 
writing  more  closely  as  it  shrivelled  up  before  my  eyes,  and  was 
convinced  then,  as  I  am  now,  that  it  was  unmistakably  a  lady's,  as 
I  had  first  thought. 

"  Directly  afterward  uncle  was  seized  with  the  illness  of  which  he 
died,  and  as  he  remained  speechless  to  the  very  last,  the  mystery 
neyer  was  explained,  though  I  am  convinced  that  his  inability  to  do 
so  added  anguish  to  his  last  hours.  What  he  would  have  asked  of 
me,  I  cannot  imagine  ;  but  he  had  some  important  charge  to  givo 
me  which  tort uied  him  unceasingly,  and  he  died  with  the  burden 
unrelieved.  This  much  is  certain,  that  that  letter,  whatever  it  con- 
tained, troubled  his  last  hours,  and  as  he  had  no  troubles  uncon- 
nected with  Louis  Hartley,  I  laid  it,  directly  or  indirectly,  at  his 
door.  I  do  not  know,  though ;  the  whole  thing  is  as  mysterious  to- 
day as  it  was  then,  and  no  light  will  probably  ever  be  thrown  up-ju. 
it." 

All  three  of  his  listeners  exhibited  the  deepest  interest  in  this  re- 
cital, but  Leonore,  especially,  was  strangely  excited  by  it.  Leaning 
forward  upon  the  table,  she  had  clasped  her  hands  together  wilh  a 
forc-i  that  rendered  them  quite  bloodies j  and  cold, -an:  1  her  eyes  did 
not  once  remove  their  eager  gaze  from  her  husband's  face.  She  drew 
a  deep  breath  -<\s  he  finished,  and  then  asked  hurridly, 

"  But  the  envelope — the  envelope  !  did  you  bum  it  with  tlio 
letter  ?  Did  it  furnish  no  clue  of  any  kind  ?'' 

"To  what,  dear  child  ?  There  was  indeed  a  postmark,  with  its 
date;  but  it  was  one  of  those  cornrmm  names  found  in  every  State, 
and  the  State  initials  were  quite  obscure  and  illegible.  Here,  you 
can  see  ;  for  I  have  preserved  it  as  a  souvenir  of  the  scene.  I  found 
it  the  next  morning  where  it  had  fallen  beside  his  chair,  and  with  a 


253  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

feeling  for  which  even  now  I  cannot   account,  I  folded  ik  in  my 
pocket-book.     Here  it  is." 

He  handed  it  to  her  across  the  table.  She  took  it  with  trembling 
fingers,  scrutinized  it  t  agerly,  and  finding  it  indeed  as  he  had  said, 
dropped  it  with  a  nerveless  motion  quite  involuntary.  Edward 
took  it  up. 

"  A  most  peculiar  style  of  penmanship,"  he  commented  as  he 
passed  it  on. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lisle  emphatically.  "  Wore  I  to  see  it  fifty  years 
from  now,  I  should  recognize  it.  It  is  very  peculiar,  aud  the  hand 
that  wrote  it  is  incapable  of  disguising  its  work  if  it  would.  Do 
you  know  it  is  one  oi  my  many  impressions  that  I  shall  yet  discover 
the  writer,  by  this  little  relic  ?" 

Leonore  abruptly  arose,  and  the  others  followed  her  out  upon  the 
gallery.  An  idea  seized  upon  Julie  as  she  meditated,  and  she  said, 

"  Who  knows  but  it  may  have  been  from  Louis,  after  all ;  that  un- 
accountable letter!  It  is  not  impossible  that  he  should  have  re- 
pented— perhaps  proffered  restitution." 

"  Quite  impossible,"  replied  Lisle  confidently.  "  I  know  him  too 
well." 

"  But,  Lisle,  there  may  have  existed  extenuating  circum-tancrs  of 
which  you  do  not  know ;  urgent  need,  which  he  dared  not  confers 
after  Mr.  Fitzjames'  generosity  to  him;  and  he  may  merely  have 
enforced  a  loan  which  he  me  ms  honestly  to  repay.  This  is  not  im- 
possible." 

1  "  Even  if  supposable,  it  does  not  better  matters.  It  was  cownnlly 
at  best,  and  what  can  be  said  for  a  man  who  prefeis  robbery  to  tem- 
porary self-humiliation  ?  Don't  plead  for  him,  Julie,  I've  no  pa- 
tience to  listen.  Why  is  it  that  women  as  a  class  plead  all  sorts  of 
extenuation  of  man's  crime,  yet  have  not  a  breath  of  charity  for  their 
own  sex !  I  am  often  vexed  at  their  defence  of  men  who  d 
thrice  hanging,  were  it  possible,  while  they  turn  their  virtuous  faces 
from  the  very  shadow  of  a  woman  suspected  of  the  slightest  dere- 
liction !  Come,  Leonore,  lift  up  your  voice  in  support  of  Julie's 
hypothesis,  and  let  us  have  a  worthy  catalogue  of  suppositions  ex- 
tenuations." 

She  turned  with  a  scornful  bitterness  of  manner  quite  unp  e- 
cedented  in  his  previous  knowledge  of  her,  and  curtlv  exclaimed, 

"I  have  no  sympathy  to  waste  upon  thitr  tiresome  fellow!  Haiv 
him  if  you  will ;  but  in  mercy's  name,  let  me  hear  no  more  of  him !"' 

Julie  looked  after  her  as  she  walked    impa'iently  down  the 


THE   HOUSE    BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  259 

gallery,  and  feeling  that  her  first  effort  in  Louis'  behalf  held  out  no 
very  flattering  prospect  for  the  future,  she  closed  her  lips  with  a 
silent  resolution.  A  slightly  perceptible  quivering  of  her  eyelids 
evidenced  her  disappointment  and  chagrin  under  the  turn  affairs 
had  taken ;  and  her  grieved  expression  smote  upon  Leonore's 
heart  like  a  reproach  against  her,  as  she  noted  it  irom  where  she 
stood.  Returning  she  laid  her  hand  upon  Julie's  shoulder  in  a 
wordless  apology  more  eloquent  than  speech, — an  apology  that  was 
received  with  a  bright  smile  as  Julie  clasped  the  caressing  hand 
with  her  own. 

Surprised  by  her  capricious  demeanor,  Lisle  looked  at  her  earnest- 
ly. She  was  first  disturbed,  than  annoyed  by  his  questioning  eyes, 
and  lifting  her  head  a  little  impetuously,  she  ejaculated  question- 
ing^, 

"  Well  ?" 

Lisle  drew  her  arm  within  his  own,  and  said, 

"  I  was  querying  how  we  could  spend  the  day  most  agreeably. 
"  Sunday  is  a  weary  day,  at  best.  Shall  we  all  ride  out  to  the  lake  ?" 

She  answered  with  a  smile  of  gratitude,  perhaps  of  relief ;  for  she 
dreaded  his  divining  eye  with  a  kind  of  superstitious  awe.  Her  cus- 
tomary serenity  soon  returned.  And  the  day  passed  by  with  only 
one  disturbing  event  to  mar  its  peace.  This  was  after  their  return 
from  their  drive,  and  but  just  before  dispersing  for  the  night,  and 
Edward  was  its  sole  spectator.  Leouore  had  gone  to  the  house- 
keeper's room  to  give  some  direction  for  the  ensuing  morning,  and 
upon  her  return  found  her  progress  impeded  by  the  unprofitable 
Joseph,  just  as  Edward,  quite  unobserved  by  either,  chanced  upon 
the  scene.  Edward  heard  her  say, 

"  Why  do  you  stand  in  the  door,  sir  ?  Step  one  side ;  I  wish  to 
pass." 

"  Not  till  I  speaks  a  word  or  two,  ma'am,"  Joseph  replied  imperti- 
nently. 

"  Speak  quickly,  then.     What  is  it  you  wish  ?" 

"  I  wants  several  things,  ma'am  !  First  of  all  I  wants  you  to  put  a 
stop  to  this  making  game  of  me  in  the  parlor.  Doctor  Sterling  has 
begun  by  insulting  me,  and  I  won't  stand  it  peaceable.  I  told  you 
the  first  day  I  see  you  here,  th  it  things  must  be  altered  in  this  yere 
house  if  me  and  you  \viis  to  stay  friends,  and  it's  only  fair  to  say 
you've  altered  'em  along  as  you  ,  ould.  But  since  there's  new  comers 
here  now,  some  things  as  I  was  about  shut  of  is  being  repeated,  and 
I  looks  to  you  to  put  a  stop  to  'em  ;  hey  ?" 


260  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

"  It  is  your  own  fault,  Joseph.  If  you  will  j-ersist  in  getting  into 
such  foolish  trouble,  you  must  suffer  the  consequences.'' 

"  No,  ma'am.  I  warns  you  me  and  you  can't  stay  friends  that 
way.'' 

"  Joseph,  I  wnrn  you  that  I  am  tired  of  all  this,  and  I  shall  insist 
upon  Mr.  Sterling's  discharging  you  if  it  is  continued.  I  will  not  ba 
annoyed  in  my  own  hou=e  by  you  or  any  servant." 

Joseph  laughed  ironically,  and  she  continued  with  the  same  dig- 
nity of  tone  and  manner, 

"  It  is  only  from  kindness  that  I  have  sometimes  endeavored  to 
shiel-l  you  irom  the  consequences  of  your  own  errors — a  kindness 
upon  which  you  have  no  real  claim,  and  which  will  be  withdrawn 
from  you  if  you  trespass  upon  it  too  far.  I  warn  you  that  it  has  its 
limit.*' 

"  Only  kindness,  hey  ?  So  you  wasn't  one  bit  afeard  all  this  time, 
oh  no !" 

'•  Stand  asi-le,  sir.     I  have  no  more  time  to  wavte  upon  you." 

"  So ;  you  don't  want  to  stay  friends  with  me  ?  Suppose  I  go 
away  and  leave  my  absence  behind  me,  not  friends !  "What  then  ?'' 

"  You  are  a  servant  whose  plice  will  be  readily  supplied.  What 
should  I  care  for  the  likes  or  dislikes  of  such  as  you — since  you  seem 
to  imply  a  threat." 

"'He,  he;  you're  a  plucky  one,  you  are,  but  it  won't  go  down 
with  me.  I" warns  you  thnt  dodge  wou't  work.  I  ain't  such  a  fool 
as  p  ople  mostly  thinks  me,  and  you'd  ought  to  know  it  by  ti.is 
tune.  Come  now ;  to  put  it  in  plain  words  like  the  friends  we'd 
ought  to  be  and  I'm  willing  to  be,  wouldn't  you  squirm  if  I  was  to 
let  out  on  you,  us  you  know  I  might  if  I  was  drove  on  to  it  ?" 

She  kept  s  lence,  though  her  large  eyes  fairly  blazed  upoa  him, 
and  he  continued  persuasively, 

"  Come,  now  ;  I  know  you  hain't  forgot  them  old  days  up  yon- 
der" (with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder),  "  and  one  oT  two 
more  little  things  th:it  a  '  ristocrat'  like  you  are  now,  woufdn 
like  to  see  give  to  the  public.  I  knowed  you  the  minute  I  set  eyes 
on  you  again,  and  said  I,  'lord  a  massy  if  it  an't  the  same  one.'' 
Come  now,  quit  putting  on  air?,  and  ict's  be  friends  again,  just  lor 
old  acquaintance's  sake.  There  an't  nothing  to  be  made  by  bullying 
me,  as  you'll  find.'' 

H's  persuasive  eloquence  was  cut  short  by  a  sudden  nn  1  unex- 
pected blow  that  sent  him  headlong  down  the  steps  upon  n 
landing  he  stood ;  and  taking  her  hand  Edward  led  the  aato: 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  261 

Leonore  toward  the  parlor,  without  speaking  a  word.  She  stopped 
as  they  gained  the  hall,  loth  to  reappear  before  her  husband  with 
her  excitement  burning  sc  revealingly  upon  her  checks.  Edward 
turned  to  leave  her,  but  she  laid  a  detaining  grasp  upon  his  arm, 
while  her  eyes  asked  the  question  her  lips  hesitated  to  frame.  He 
answered  it  with  careless  reassurance. 

"If  I  owe  you  an  apology  for  having  so  rudely  terminated  a  con- 
versation in  which  you  were  engaged,  please  consider  it  rmnle. 
Coming  along  the  hall,  I  chanced  to  look  out  where  you  were  stand- 
ing, and  from  Joseph's  impudent  attitude  I  fancied  he  was  barring 
your  passage-way,  or  at  least  annoying  you  ;  and,  with  my  usual 
hastiness,  I  waited  for  no  deliberation  before  administering  what  I 
thought  justice.'' 

"  Oh,  what  have  you  done  !"  she  exclaimed,  as,  her  first  fear  thus 
calmed,  her  mind  reverted  to  the  possible  consequences  of  this  ad- 
ministration of  justice. 

"  Kicked  a  born  rascal  down  the  area,  where  he  belonged.  Noth- 
ing more.'' 

"  You  must  think  me  wofully  lacking  in  dignity  to  submit  to  the 
insolence  you  rightly  punished — but — much  must  be  excused  in 
Joseph,  as  you  see,  Please  do  me  the  favor  not  to  repeat  all  this  to 
Lisle.  It  is  better  not;  and  after  all,  the  aifair  was  not  serious." 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  get  myself  into  hot  water  by  making  a  report 
to  pater  familias,  who  may  prefer  to  follow  his.  own  domestic  system 
of  rewards  and  punishment,  without  my  valuable  assistance,"  laughed 
Edward,  as  he  made  his  good-night  bow  and  sprang  up  the  stair- 
case. 

But  long  after  others  were  asleep,  this  scene,  which  had  surprised 
him  out  of  the  very  consciousness  that  he  had  no  right  to  witness  it, 
and  which  had  transfixed  him  where  he  stood,  repeated  itself  again 
and  again  in  his  memory,  and  deeply  as  he  pondered  over  its  sig- 
nificance, the  unanswered  query  remained, 

"  What,  and  from  whence  derived,  was  this  mysterious  power 
Avhich  the  rascal  Joseph  exercised  over  Lisle's  well-born  and  beauti- 
ful wife?" 


262  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  breezy  days  and  pale  golden  sunshine  of  the  delicious  south- 
ern autumn  brought  back  the  scattered  denizens  of  the  city  from 
their  summer  wanderings,  and  the  accustomed  gayeties  were  at  once 
restored  in  place  of  the  monotonous  quiet  that  had  reigned  in  their 
absence.  If  many  professed  to  be  delighted  with  the  marriage  that 
had  been  consummated  during  their  absence,  few  were  surprised, 
for  society  possesses  a  marvellous  instinct  for  foretelling  such  events 
witbin  its  radius,  and  Lisle  had  too  unaffectedly  manifested  his  re- 
gard for  Miss  Wakefield,  to  have  left  any  observer  in  ignorance  of  it. 
Naturally,  the  admiration  that  had  been  generously  bestowed  upon 
the  almost  unknown  Miss  Wakefield,  increased  in  corresponding 
ratio  for  Mrs.  Lisle  Sterling,  whose  social  position  was  now  not  only 
assured,  but  enviable,  and  the  conservative  few  who  had  heretofore 
remained  halt  aloof,  in  that  merciless  stickling  for  "birth"  and  "  an- 
tecedents," relative  to  which  they  had  received  no  satisfaction, 
hastened  to  atone  for  past  coldness,  by  present  cc>rdiality  and  em- 
pressement. 

Fully  appreciating  the  influencing  cause  for  this  change  in  their 
deportment,  Leonore  herself  remained  perfectly  unchanged  toward 
all,  with  a  calm  disdain  of  owing  anything  to  an  eligible  marriage, 
which  would  not  have  been  accorded  her  upon  her  individual  mer- 
i's ;  and  though  gracefully  courteous  to  a  1,  she  dignifiedly  repressed 
this  newly  conceived  cordiality,  by  seeming  utterly  unconscious  that 
it  had  sprung  into  existence.  Lisle  watched  her  with  silent  but  ap- 
proviug  admiration,  for,  like  most  who  assume  the  prerogative  of 
thinking  for  themselves,  he  had  little  sympathy  for  those  who  bow 
only  to  position,  and  discover  merit  only  when  joined  with  eclat. 

As  for  Julie,  naturally  refined  and  graceful  as  she  was  piquant  and 
pretty,  the  c'rcle  by  which  she  was  surrounded,  while  it  cheered  and 
enlivened  her,  imparted  to  her  manner  that  indescribable  clvirm  and 
polish  acquired  only  by  familiar  intimacy  with  the  highest  society  ; 
and  Lisle  regirded  with  excusable  pride  the;  wile  and  ward  who 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS.  263 

formed  an  unfailing  attraction  to  any  vicinity  or  circle  they  chanced 
to  be  in. 

Despite  Mr.  Bertram's  repeated  prophecies  and  forebodings,  not  a 
cloud  was  as  yet  visible  in  their  domestic  horizon ;  and  if  Mrs. 
Bertram  indeed  had  in  any  way  lent  her  assistance  at  match- 
making, as  he  had  accused  her  from  the  first,  she  was  not  yet 
threatened  with  a  matchmaker's  remorse,  nor  did  she  feel  any 
premonition  of  the  reproaches  usually  visited  upon  this  dubious 
class  of  friends.  Upon  tlie  contrary,  the  mutual  friendship  existing 
between  herself  and  Leonore  was  invigorated  and  brightened  by  the 
familiarity  which  had  been  established  between  them  since  Mrs. 
Sterling  felt  that  she  was  giving  as  much  as  she  received  in  a  social 
point  of  view,  and  she  no  longer  complained  of  the  unapproachable- 
ness  which  had  before  continually  chilled  her  in  their  intercourse. 

Leonore  appeared,  as  she  wa?,  unfeignedly  happy ;  and  if  the 
old  familiar  shadows  still  lowered  above  her,  they  were  invisible 
even  to  the  penetrating  eyes  of  Mrs.  Venard,  who,  better  than  any 
other,  knew  that  they  were  banished  only  for  the  time.  Leonore'a 
struggles  against  the  love  that  had  conquered  her  at  last,  proved 
that  the  troubles  surrounding  and  oppressing  her  were  not  thus 
easily  surmountable.  What  these  troubles  were,  remained  an 
unrevealed  mystery, — the  past  as  much  unguessed  as  what  the 
future  h  Id  in  store ;  and  Mrs.  Venard  looked  upon  the  smiling 
1  resent  with  eyes  that  forever  dreaded  the  approach  of  evil,  she 
knew  not  in  what  form  to  appear.  It  seemed  to  her  that  Leonore 
herself  luxuriated  in  her  present  happiness  as  one  who  feared  that 
at  any  moment  it  might  be  snatched  away,  that  at  times  she  shrank 
with  a  visible  shudder  from  a  s-pectral  hand  that  threatened  her, — 
with  what?  She  queried  in  vain,  not  in  idle  curiosity,  but  from 
tint  real  and  lasting  affection  which  had  never  wavered  since  she 
first  clasped  Leonore's  hand  protectingly. 

She  saw  without  one  sensitive  feeling,  that  now,  during  these 
hours  in  which  she  seemed  determined  to  be  happy,  Leonore 
avoided  her  ever  tenderly  watchful  eyes,  and  seemed  more  thorough- 
Iv  at  ease  with  Mrs.  Bertram,  whose  unsuspecting  cheerfulness  and 
chatty  gayety  reassured  her  ;  for  she  knew  that  should  real  trouble 
ngain  darken  her  life,  her  own  would  be  the  heart  to  which  Leonoro 
would  turn  for  aid  and  comfort,  could  such  be  afforded  her. 

Whatever  may  be  the  skeptical  creed  of  the  world  relative  to 
"society  friendships,"  that  such  friendship  does  exist,  pure,  gon- 
crous,  and  devoted,  among  the  many  "  summer-day "  profession?' 


20 1  TIIE   HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLAttS. 

of  if,  is  a  holy  truth.  Strange,  indeed,  should  the  influences  which 
soften  and  brighten  lifu  itself,  render  the  heart  cold  and  calculat- 
ing !  Jt  is  experience  with  the  harsh,  bitter  side  of  life,  not  its 
sunny  one,  that  makes  us  cold  and  selfish,  and  misanthropical. 

Scarcely  a  day  passed  without  that  interchange  of  courtesy  and 
companionship  which  so  brighten  the  links  of  the  most  casual 
friendship,  between  the  little  coterie  that  was  almost  rx  family  one 
from  its  long  and  close  intimacy  ;  and  Mrs.  Bertram's  unceremoni- 
ous entrance  into  the  Sterling  parlor  upon  one  particular  morning, 
awoke  no  surprise  in  its  two  lady  occupants,  nor  did  the  character- 
istic explosion  to  whicii  she  treated  them  aw.-ike  more  than  a  smile, 
us,  tossing  her  hat  into  the  farthest  corner,  she  exclaimed, 

"  This  is  one  of  my  bad  days  at  home ;  so  I  have  come  visiting, 
in  search  of  a  cure  for  '  spells.'  Not  that  like  Mrs.  Gumnudge  I'm 
'  thinking  of  the  old  '  un  ;'  it  is  pure  wilful  depravity, — a  bona 
fide  '  spell '  of  the  most  aggravating  variety.  Do  you  ever  have 
them  ?" 

Leon  ore  smiled  as  she  wheeled  forward  a  chair  for  her  friend. 

"  How  can  you  ask  such  a  question,  when  to  answer  it  involves 
either  a  fib  or  a  humiliating  confession  ?  But  to  be  frank,  I  fancy  that  ] 
re:illy  possess  capabilities  that  way,  that  might,  under  evoking  circum- 
stances, yield  me  considerable  notoriety.  Ask  Julie.  She  has  had 
enough  experience  with  me  in  more  than  three  months,  to  judge.'1 

"  Well,  if  I  am  desired  to  answer  truthfully,  I  must  say  that  I 
thought  you  decidedly  gifted  in  that  way  the  day  after  my  arrival. 
Do  you  remember  how  unceremoniously  you  treated  me  to  a  mental 
shower-bath?1' 

"It  was  amply  excusable!  Be  careful  not  to  deserve  another 
now,  as  you  will  if  you  enter  into  particulars,"  Leouore  replied,  with 
u  finger  raised  warningly.  Julie  hastened  to  make  amends,  and 
said  earnestly, 

"Oh,  that  is  the  one  time,  Leonore,  that  I  have  ever  had  reason 
to  think  you  hasty  or  inconsiderate.  But  I  was  so  muc  i  interested 
in  the  subject  that  day  discussed,  and  the  right  arguments  wouldn't, 
come  to  me;  while  Lisle  was  so  unmerciful  that  I  wanted  your 
help." 

"  It  was  not  a  case  for  argument.  None  would  have  helped  the 
afiair." 

Mrs.  Bertram  smiled  approvingly.  "  Sensible  woinnn,  to  have 
learned  that  a  cause  had  better  be  left  to  stand  on  its  own  merits, 
than,  to  be  afflicted  with  a  tottering  argument.  So  few  ever  learn 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKt  2tH) 

this,  that  it  ought  to  be  taught  with  one's  alphabet,  that  the  only 
excuse  there  is  for  talking  at  all,  is  that  one  has  something  either 
forcible  or  original  to  say.  It  really  seems  as  if  originality  were  se- 
cured to  a  favored  few  by  patent  right,  or  something  equally  unin- 
fringable." 

Julie  smiled.  "  That  re  nark  savors  of  aspiring  authorship.  II 
really  quite  reminds  me,  by  affinity,  of  a  lady  aspirant  for  literary 
honors  whom  I  met  last  sumrmr  at  Niagara,  and  who,  now  I  think 
of  it,  may  be  some  relative  of  these  Venards,  as  that  was  her  name. 
I  make  my  bow  to  you  for  the  insinuation,  Mrs.  Bertram,  but  this 
young  lady  of  who-n  you  reminded  me,  is  more  direct  than  always 
polite  or  flattering  in  her  remarks.  She  spoke  of  knowing  youi 
liege  lord,  Leonore." 

"  Miss  Phebe,  by  all  that  is  probable !'"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bertram, 
"  So  that  wonderful  book  is  out,  is  it  ?" 

"  I  never  heard  what  one,  but  she  passed  for  an  authoress,  as  well 
as  an  heiress.  Is  she  either,  or  both  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  to  a  certain  extent.  She  writes  love  stories,  if  that  is  ta 
be  an  'authoress' — a  huge  name  for  a  small  business — nncl  she  ha? 
some  property  in  her  own  right,  by  her  mother,  and  will  have  mon 
as  a  reward  for  getting  married,  when  she  thus  lets  her  father  out  o< 
purgatory." 

"  Such  young  ladies  are  more  to  be  pitied  than  ridiculed,"  said 
Leonore  gently.  "  Miss  Phebe  was  not  overburdened  with  sound 
sense,  and  she  was  too  little  of  a  hypocrite  to  conceal  of  defi  iences. 
But  she  was  not  bad-hearted,  or  she  never  would  have  forgiven  Lisle 
for  his  merciless  quizzing.  I  used  often  to  feel  sorry  for  her." 

"By  the  way,"  asked  Mrs.  Bertram,  "  didn't  we  hear  that  she  was 
married,  some  time  last  summer  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  quite  forget  the  name  of  the  happy  man.  It  was  no 
one  I  ever  heard  of  before,  and  I  doubt  if  Mrs.  Venard,  herself,  could 
tell  it  now  without  referring  to  the  letter.  A  Mr. — somebody,  whom 
she  met  at  the  Falls,  1  believe.  Have  you  any  idea  who  it  was, 
Julie  ?" 

"Not  the  least.  She  had  quite  nn  assortment  of  beaux,  of  all 
stylos  and  description  ;  but  no  one  seemed  especially  favored  when 
I  left.  She  had  not  the  best  reputation  for  amiability  among  those 
who  care  for  that  old-fashioned  virtue.' 

"Oh,  she  is  abundantly  equipped  with  the  side  arms  of  matri- 
mony— temper  and  a  good  will  of  her  own  !  She'll  never  die  from 
being  over-snubbed,"  laughed  Mrs.  Bertram. 


266  THB  HOUSE  BEHIND   Tflfe  POPLAB8. 

Leonore  gave  an  arch  glance  at  her  friend,  as  she  said  •with  play- 
ful railery, 

"  Julie,  let  me  tell  you  that  one  of  Mrs.  Bertram's  striking  pecu- 
liarities is  keeping  a  keen  look-out  for  what  sh ;  styles  '  snub.-,'  or 
'snubbing,' — a  production  of  social  and  domestic  life,  -which,  as  I 
understand  it,  yields  more  fruit  th  in  flowers.  Deal  gently  with  her 
monomania." 

"  Oh,  it's  very  well  to  style  it  monomania !    You  and  Lisle  haven't 
been  married  long  enough  yet  for  him  to  be  anything  but  perfec- 
tion ;  but  he'll  come  to  it  in  time.     Julie,  if  you  wish  to  retain  a  fa- 
vorable opJnion  of  yourself,  don't  mnrry." 
"  I  won't  tliis  year,  thank  you." 

The  three  ladies  laughed  ;  but  Mrs.  Bertram  piq^antly  rejoined, 
"  He  who  ha^  never  been  snubbed,  has  a  sensation  in  reserve,  and 
I'd  advise  him  to  keep  it  in  an  anticipatory  condit. on  as  long  as  pos- 
sible. Make  the  most  of  your  last  year  of  grace,  Julie,  if  you  are 
really  bent  upon  a  '  love  match,'  as  at  your  precious  age  I  suppose 
you  are." 

•  "I  don't  know.  Lisle's  theory  is  that  love  and  good  sense  seldom 
go  together — that  is,  they  don't  '  hunt  in  pairs;'  and  I  am  prosaieal 
enough  to  prefer  more  sense,  even  at  the  cost  of  less  love.~ 

"  Well,  don't  look  for  too  much,  which  is  equally  to  be  dreaded. 
A  husband  with  some  sense  is  inclined  to  give  his  wife  credit  for 
possessing  a  little :  but  one  with  too  much,  can  never  be  brought  to 
belive  that  she  his  any  !  Unfortunately,  sense  and  egotism  go  hand 
in  hand,  paradoxical  a?  it  seems." 

Leonore  pressed  her  hands  laughingly  upon  her  temples,  as  she 
exclaimed, 

*' Ah  me!  Poor  Mrs.  "Wragg's  unfor:unat.j,  head  was  never  in  such 
a  whirl,  with  her  omelette,  as  is  mine  wi:h  your  matrimonial  ethics  ! 
People  never  did  marry  by  rule,  and  they  never  will ;  so  where  is 
the  use  of  trying  to  make  them  ]" 

"  There  is  none  at  all ;  so,  to  change  the  subject,  how  is  the  In- 
fant r" 

"  I  regret  to  tell  you  that  the  Infant  is  in  a  melancholv  condition. 
Her  son-in-law,  who:ii  Lisle  styles  'the  fat  boy,'  last  night  regaied 
himself  with  the  luxury  of  a  lodging  in  the  '  lock  up.'  It  m  iy  Le 
a  comfortable  haven  of  rest,  but  it  isn't  aristocratic,  and  Mrs.  Per- 
kins bemoans  it  accordingly.  Moreov_r,  Melissa  his  wife,  has  an 
heir,  who  is  to  be  measled,  and  whooping-coughed,  and  have  his  or 
her  teeth  umbrella  knobed  into  existence,  under  the  auspices  ol  tho 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  267 

old  lady  herself,  as  babies  don't  seem  to  flourish  upon  nothing,  to 
which  thh  one  is  heir.  I  daren't  tell  Lisle  the  afflictions  of  his 
household,  nor  that  I  this  hour  paid  the  vagrant's  fine,  to  enable 
him  to  go  home  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  his  family." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  was  the  persuasive  Joe  who  moved  you  to  that 
act  of  compassion,"  said  Julie.  "  He  must  be  most  eloquent  in  his 
frequent  appeals  to  your  generosity,  if  one  can  judge  by  tbeir  suc- 
cess." 

"Yes,  I'm  most  tender  hearted;  and  Joseph  has  had  the  penetra- 
tion to  perceive,  and  the  talent  to  avail  himself  of  the  fact." 

The  reply  was  laughingly  made,  but  there  was  a  spasmodic  move- 
ment of  the  hand  lying  idly  upon  her  lap,  that  belied  the  lightness 
of  her  manner. 

As  if  the  very  allusion  to  him  were  sufficient  to  invoke  his  pres- 
ence, at  that  instant  Joseph  himself  appeared  in  the  doorway,  and 
mutely  beckoned  Leonore  toward  him.  Wondering  what  could  be 
his  mission,  she  approached  him,  and  with  an  air  of  sanctimonious 
astuteness  he  placed  a  tiny  envelope  in  her  hand  half  concealed 
among  the  folds  of  her  dress.  Raising  her  hand  with  an  impulsive 
movement,  she  read  the  inscription,  and  then  asked  in  surprise, 

"Why  do  you  deliver  to  others  the  messages  not  intended  for 
them  ?  Did  you  not  see  that  this  letter  is  for  Miss  Julie  ?" 

"  Oh,  ma'm,  it's  all  right  then,  is  it  ?  The  thing  looked  strange 
like,  being  as  the  cove  what  give  it  to  me  told  me  over  and  over 
again  to  '  give  it  into  Miss  Kelley's  own  hand  ;'  so  says  I  to  myself, 
•don't  you  do  it,  Joe ;  don't  you  do  no  such  thing.  Just  you  give  it 
to  the  madam,  instead ;'  and  then  says  I,  '  that's  what  I  will ;'  and  if 
you'll  take  my  advice,  you'll  read  it.  It  couldn't  do  no  harm,  you 
know." 

"Joseph,  you  are  incorrigible.  Keep  your  lips  closed,  and  in 
future  do  exactly  a<?  you  are  bidden,"  and  with  a  dismissing  gesture, 
she  turned,  and  as  she  passed  the  two  ladies  who  in  their  conversa- 
tion had  heard  nothing  that  had  passed  beyond  it,  she  laid  the 
letter  in  Julie's  lap,  and  repeated  herself  witliout  a  word.  But 
silent  as  were  her  lips,  her  face  was  eloquent.  Surprise,  pain,  grief, 
and  something  of  incredulity,  lined  itself  upon  her  features,  and 
she  bent  upon  Julie  a  glance  of  piercing  penetration  that  was  almost 
fierce. 

Unconscious  of  the  glance,  Julie  opened  the  letter,  and  her  color 
changed  visibly  as  she  read : 

"Dearest,  1  am  here.     Do  not  be  offended  with  me  for  having 


268  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

disobeyed  you ;  I  could  not  remain  away  from  you  I  Do  in  pity's 
name,  give  me  an  interview  somewhere,  this  evening,  or  I  shall  seek 
you  at  your  home,  whatever  may  be  the  consequences.  For  myself  I 
do  not  fear  them,  and  it  is  only  my  love  for  you  that  makes  me 
prudent.  Send  me  one  word  by  my  messenger  who  awaits  it. 

Yours  devotedly, 

LEONARD." 

He  had  followed  her,  then,  as  he  threatened.  Well,  she  had 
forbidden  him  to  do  so,  she  would  not  receive  him.  She  had  never 
pledged  herself  to  receive  him  till  that  reparation  he  had  promised, 
should  have  been  made.  She  owed  him  no  obligation  as  yet, 
doubted  even  her  right  to  do  so,  under  the  ban  as  he  was.  She 
was  about  to  write  him  this,  as  she  ascended  to  her  room  ;  but  sec- 
ond thought  restrained  her.  What  if  he  were  to  come  to  the  house, 
as  he  threatened !  Above  all  things  she  must  prevent  a  collision 
between  him  and  Lisle  ;  and  seizing  her  pencil  she  hastily  wrote, 

"  I  will  meet  you  in  the  summerhouse  at  eight  o'clock.  Enter  by 
the  garden  gate,  which  you  will  find  unlocked." 

Carrying  the  brief  reply  herself,  she  gave  it  to  the  messenger,  and 
with  all  the  self-possession  she  could  summon  returned  to  the  par- 
lor. She  felt  that  the  duplicity  of  her  conduct  must  be  stamped 
upon  her  face ;  but  to  her  relief,  Leonore,  who  seemed  struggling 
against  he  mental  pre-occupation,  did  not  look  up,  and  Mrs.  Ber- 
tram was  chatting  fluently  as  ever.  So  she  continued  to  do  until 
suddenly  the  fact  appeared  to  strike  her  that  she  received  few  re- 
sponses. 

"  What  has  happened  to  both  of  you?"  she  exclaimed,  making  a 
stop  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence.  "  One  would  really  imagine,  Julie, 
that  the  aforesaid  husband  had  made  his  appearance  in  propria  per- 
sona, much  to  the  objection  of  the  family,  as  usual — families  always 
do  object,  it's  their  mission !  When  is  it  to  be  ?" 

Julie  forced  herself  to  make  a  playful  reply  to  this  sally  so  acci- 
dentally direct,  while  Leonore,  much  to  her  surprise,  said  nothing, 
if  indeed  she  heard  what  was  passing.  Illy  at  ease  as  she  was,  Julie 
felt  herself  an  object  of  suspicion,  if  not  of  displeasure  ;  and,  cut  to 
the  heart  by  the  seeming  coldness,  she  impulsively  bent  forward  and 
clasped  Leonore's  hand  in  her  own.  The  action  aroused  her,  and 
but  half  comprehending  it,  she  started  violently  ;  then  with  a  con- 
temptuous smile  she  said, 

"  What  strange  freaks  fancy  plays  with  us  !  I  have  been  dull  and 
uninteresting  indeed,  and  you  are  right,  Julie,  to  repr  >ach  me.  I 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  2G9 

trust  your  letter  was  a  pleasant  one,  Julie.  It  was  an  example  of 
Joseph's  usual  stupidity,  bringing  it  to  me.'' 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  letter,  nor  had  it  been  gladly  received. 

But  for  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Bertram,  Julie  would  have  told  her 
so.  As  it  was,  she  said  nothing  beyond  a  mere  word  of  thanks  for 
the  interest  displayed ;  but  the  affectionate  glance  which  accom- 
panied it  restored  Leonore's  serenity,  and  gradually  the  shadows 
cleared  from  her  face.  Whatever  had  been  the  source  of  her  dis- 
comfort and  alarm,  she  had  reasoned  against  it  successfully,  and  re- 
sumed her  part  in  the  conversation  with  her  customary  spirit  long 
before  Lisle's  btep  in  the  hall  reminded  them  how  the  hours  were 
passing. 

(""Our  liege  lords  have  come  home  for  dinner!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Bertram,  hastily  scrambling  her  worsteds  together  preparatory  for 
flight. 

"  You  needn't  be  frightened  at  my  husband.  He  is  always  amia- 
ble," said  Leonore,  amused  by  Mrs.  Bertram's  precipitation. 

At  that  moment  Lisle  threw  open  the  door  and  entered.  He  was 
flushed  and  excited,  evidently  not  pleasantly ;  for  at  the  first  glimpse 
of  his  face,  Mrs.  Bertram  exclaimed, 

"  '  Amiable  !'  A  fond  wife's  delusion  !  May  I  never  see  a  thunder- 
cloud !" 

Scarcely  acknowledging  the  satirical  salutation,  Lisle  handed  his 
wife  a  latter  already  unfoldel  for  perusal,  and  said  imperatively, 

"  Read  that,  Leonore ;  read  it  aloud." 

She  took  it  mechanically;  but  whether  his  manner  had  startled 
her,  or  sudden  illness  overwhelmed  her,  the  page  swam  before  her 
eyes,  and  when  she  would  have  spoken,  her  lips  were  mutely  white 
and  trembling.  Seeing  her  agitation,  Julie  reached  forward  and 
took  the  letter  from  her,  together  with  a  folded  enclosure  which  had 
fallen  from  it.  "  Let  me  read  it,  Leonore.  My  eyes  are  younger 
than  yours,  if  you  won't  resent  the  assertion." 

Her  smile  gave  place  to  a  look  of  surprise  and  attention  as  the 
first  words  caught  her  eye  ;  a  glad  surprise,  a  pleased  interest ;  and 
in  a  voice  which  no  effort  could  quite  render  firm,  she  said, 

"  LISLE  STERLING,  Esq., 

SIR, — Enclosed  please  find  a  draft  on  the  Bank  of  Commerce,  for 
the  amount  of  which  you  have  doubtless  considered  yourself  robbed, 
since  I  had  an  imperative  necessity  for  it  which  brooked  no  demy 
nor  ceremony.  Although  a  portion  of  this  sum  is  justly  mine,  a*  a 
share  of  the  profits  of  our  co-partnership  which  atthat  time  exi.-tcu, 


270  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

I  refund  the  whole  amount  taken,  with  interest  to  date ;  that,  so  far 
from  having  any  just  cause  of  complaint  again&t  me,  you  may  be 
satisfied  that  your  money  was  profitably  invested. 

I  believe,  sir,  that  I  am  no  longer  under  obligation  to  you ;  and 
should  we  meet,  ns  very  probably  we  often  may.  I  shall  consider 
myself  entitled  to  that  courtesy  from  you  which  one  gentleman  ex- 
tends to  another.  My  misfcntune— ; -fault,  if  you  please — proved 
your  gam,  since  by  it  you  enjoy  a  fortune  of  which  one-half  would 
otherwise  have  betn  mine  ;  in  consideration  of  which,  you  may  well 
sacrifice  personal  enmity  if  you  yet  cherish  it,  and  allow  me  to  sub- 
scribe myself,  Yours  most  obliged, 

Louis  HARTLEY." 

A  profound  silence  succeeded  to  the  last  word,  during  which 
Julie  absently  toyed  with  the  draft  she  had  not  unfolded. 

A  strange  smile  wreathed  Leouore's  lips,  as,  extending  her  hand, 
she  took  the  paper  and  ran  her  glance  over  it. 

"Do  you  imagine  this  is  genuine — that  it  is  collectable?"  she 
asked. 

"  I  did  not  till  I  tested  it,  but  it  is  good  aa  the  gold  itself." 
His  lips  were  compressed,  and  he  paced  the  floor  as  if  struggling 
to  suppress  his  excitement. 

"  That  is  the  only  surprising  part  of  it,"  Leonore  rejoined,  tossing 
the  scrap  upon  the  carpet  with  a  disdainful  gesture. 

il  How  did  you  receive  it  ?"  Julie  asked,  prompted  by  an  unre- 
btrainable  curiosity  to  know  if  Lisle  and  Hartley  had  met. 

"  Froniiny  Post  Office  box  ;  dropped,  as  you  see  by  the  envelope. 
The  rascal  must  be  in  the  city,  or  his  emissaries  are  near.     I  would 
give  half  my  life  to  encounter  him !'' 
"  For  what,  Lisle  ?" 

"  To  see  if  he  has  the  physical  capacity  to  swallow  both  the  draft 
and  his  insulting  letter!  By  Heaven,  he  shall  do  it !" 

"  Lisle,  Lisle,  in  the  name  of  justice,  stop  !"  Julie  exclaimed. 
"Who  speaks  of  justice  and  that  man?     'Justice!'     It  would 
hang  him  higher  than  Hainan  1  Julie,  Louis  Hartley  murdered  my  old 
uncle !  do  you  understand  ?     Murdered  him  ! ' 

Both  Julie  and  Leonore  were  struck  speechless;  and  pitying  the 
emotion  exhibited  by  all,  Mrs.  Bertram  ventured  an  expostulation. 
"  Don't  be  unreasonable  in  your  anger,  Lisle.  Mr.  Fitzjames  was 
an  old  gentleman,  already  feeble  and  quite  broken.  How  can  you 
say  that  Hartley's  crime,  with  all  its  stinging  ingratitude,  hastened 
his  death  by  an  hour  ?  It  is  only  your  supposition." 

"  Whatever  it  be,  whether  fact  or  supposition,  I  hold  him  respon- 
sible ;  and  what  the  law  in  its  technicalities,  will  never  give  me,  my 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  271 

right  arm  shall  exact  of  him.  There  are  wrongs  for  which  the  law 
offers  no  redress.  Who,  then,  should  be  judge  and  jury  ?" 

"What  would  you  do  ?"  aske.l  Julie,  pale  and  trembling. 

"  'Do  ?'  Horsewhip  him  to  begin  with,  a3  a  dog  who  had  bitten 
me — and  after — well,  words  are  meaningless." 

'%  Lisle,  you  are  crufil  and  unjust.  What  are  you  made  of  that  you 
are  so  implacable  ?  What  reparation  would  you  have  ?'' 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  would  have !  I  never  asked  myself  upon 
what  terms  I  would  forgive  him.  I  hate  him  ;  that  is  all !  He  can 
make  no  reparation  satisfactory  to  such  a  feeling." 

"Lisle,  Lisle,  you  were  always  stern  and  bitter  !  You  never  were 
like  others,  even  as  a  child.  From  disliking  and  distrusting  the 
world,  you  have  come  to  hate  it.  Is  there  no  mercy  in  your  nature  \ 
Leonore,  dear  Leonore,  speak  to  him, — you  who  are  so  gentle  and 
full  of  pity." 

"Don't  appeal  to  me  ;  I  have  neither  gentleness  nor  pity  for  this 
contemptible  wretch,"  she  replied  with  an  expression  of  real  loath- 
ing. 

Lisle  softly  stroked  her  hair.  "  Your  sympathy  is  most  welcome, 
Leonore.  I  believe  you  are  that  rare  treasure  among  women,  '  a 
good  hater.'  Thank  you,  dear." 

Mrs.  Bertram  arose  and  drew  her  mantle  around  her. 

"  Don't  go,  Mrs.  Bertram,"  said  Lisle  cordially.  "  We  have  not 
been  entertaining,  I  confess.  See  now  how  amicably  we  will  adjust 
affairs.  Here,  Laonore.  I  endow  you  with  this  draft  to  do  with 
it  just  whatever  you  may  decide.  I  never  will  touch  it  again,  nor 
wilt  I  accept  one  dollar  from  the  coward,  by  what  ever  name  he 
calls  it ;  restitution,  reparation,  or  peace  offering !  Take  it, 
Leonore." 

"Not  for  anything  under  heaven  !     I  would  starve  or  beg  first." 

"  Here,  then,  Julie ;  some  one  may  as  well  have  the  benefit  of  it. 
No  ?  Then  expend  it  in  charity." 

"Not  that  either,  Lisle.  Place  one-half  of  this  amount  to  Louis 
Hartley's  credit,  since,  as  he  says,  it  is  justly  bis.  With  the  other 
half  I'll  buy  me  a  wedding  trouseau  and  a  husband,  thank  you." 

"  '  What  comes  over  the  devil's  back,'  eh,  you  remember  the 
adage,  Julie?"  Lisle  said  warn  ngly. 

•'  Don't  begin  to  croak  now,  Lisle.  You  will  have  to  be  very 
amiable  to  drive  away  the  impression  you  have  created.  Poor 
Lronore  looks  quite  worn  out." 

So  she  did,  with  the  hectic  flush  of  excitement  in  her  usually 


;J7%2  THE  UOUSB  BEU1XD  THE  POPLAK3. 

colorless  cheeks;  and  there  was  more  of  languor  tl&an  of  affection  in 
the  poi-e  of  her  head  as  it  rested  against  her  husband  s  shoulder, 
where  he  had  drawn  it  with  a  caressing  hand. 

The  announcement  of  dinner  was  welcome  to  all,  and  utterly  re- 
fusing to  remain,  Mrs.  Bertram  departed  with  the  laughing  asser- 
tion tb.it  she  expected  to  be  dischaiged  by  her  cook  for  having  de- 
layed the  hour  of  that  ceremony  in  her  own  establishment. 

Edward  intuitively  felt  that  something  had  disturbed  the  serenity 
with  which  the  family  sat  dewn  to  dine,  and  as  he  took  his  place 
opposite  Julie,  he  bent  an  inquiring  g,ance  upon  her. 

Why  was  it  that  her  color  would  so  provokingly  rise  whenever 
she  most  wished  to  seem  at  ease !  the  could  have  smitten  her  telU 
tale  face  in  vexation  as  she  asked  herself  the  question.  However, 
no  suspicion  could  be  so  embarrassing  as  the  truth,  and  hardly  car- 
ing what  he  might  fancy,  she  hastened  what  was  but  the  bare  cere- 
mony of  dining,  and  shut  herself  iuto  her  own  room.  It  was  rcaly 
the  first  moment  she  had  had  in  which  calmly  to  think  over  the  po- 
sition in  which  she  was  placed.  "So,  she  had  acted  rightly  in 
granting  Louis  an  interview  !  He  had  the  right  to  claim  it  since  he 
had  made  the  only  reparation  within  his  power  for  that  error  which 
Lisle  so  implacably  refused  to  forgive.  Suppose  he  never  were  to 
forgive  it,  should  refuse  his  consent  to  their  marriage  ?  Was  she  to 
bow  to  his  decision  and  forego  the  fulfillment  of  her  promise  feo 
solemnly  uiad~?  Was  not  he  alone  to  blame  Jor  the  undignified 
secrecy  of  the  interview  she  had  ai ranged  lor  this  very  evening? 
It  was  foreign  to  her  wishes,  foreign  to  her  nature  thus  to  cover 
with  the  veil  of  secrecy  any  act  which  she  might  commit,  and  her 
spirit  rose  iu  rebellion  against  the  circumstances  which  influenced 
her. 

It  was  then  no  longer  with  a  timid  shrinking  that  she  descended  to 
the  garden  and  carefully  assured  herself  that  as  usual  the  side  gate  was 
yet  unlocked,  and  that  Joseph,  whose  peculiar  care  it  was.  yet  remained 
invisible.    Satisfied  that  she  was  unobserved,  she  went  directly  to  the 
summerhouse,  and  seated  herself  to  await  Louis's  coming.    The  eve- 
ning was  cold  and  gray,  and  the  rising  wind  h-  raided  a  wintry  storm ; 
but  scarcely  feeling  the  chili  in  she  air,  she  waited  with  a  breat 
impatience  which   made  every  moment  seem  an  hour.     She  i.- 
the  nearest  city  clock  strike  eight,  and  started  up  impatient 
pose  she  w.re  to  bj  miss.-d.  sought  for!     She  had  already  waited 
here  a  quarter  of  hour,  as  impatience  had  led  her  out  before  tin 
hour  the  herself  had  named,  she  would  remain  no  longer,  but  u 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  XUE   POPLARS.  273 

the  threatened  danger.  She  turned  to  put  the  resolution  into  effect, 
but  Louis  himself  arrested  her  steps  in  the  doorway.  His  presence 
revived  her  courage,  and  with  an  exclamation  of  joy  she  threw  her- 
self into  his  outstretched  arms.  The  moments  flew  unheeded,  now. 
Had  time  really  stopped  in  its  flight,  it  \vould  not  have  been  more 
unquestioned.  Where  now  were  all  the  reproaches  she  had  pre- 
pared for  him  for  having  thus  pursued  her  despite  her  prohibition? 
Forgotten  in  the  joy  of  his  presence,  as  contentedly  she  listened  to 
his  voice,  and  felt  the  happiness  of  being  beloved.  Only  when  tb.3 
morning's  events  were  rehearsed  in  answer  to  his  queries,  did  that 
voice  lose  its  sweetness,  and  jar  upon  her  ear. 

"  So  ;"  said  he  contemptuously,  "  this  immaculate  and  all-perfect 
Lisle  Sterling  assumes  the  right  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  me  even  yet. 
What  more  does  he  demand  ?  Wh.  t  more  can  he  w.sh  of  me?" 

"Nothing,  oh  nothing !  He  himself  admits  that  you  can  do  noth- 
ing more.  Time  will  lead  him  to  realize  his  injustice  ;  he  must  relent 
and  soften  toward  you  !" 

"  Never,  Julie.  He  always  suspected  and  disliked  me,  he  is  in- 
capable of  anything  soft  or  merciful.  He  was,  as  a  boy,  cold,  calcu- 
lating, and  distrustful ;  thus  will  he  be  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Hia 
vaiu.ted  affection  for  old  Mr.  Fitzjames  was  only  another  example 
of  his  calculation — a  mo^t  politic  and  profitable  one,  as  it  proved. 
You  speak  of  his  wife,  so  I  suppose  some  woman  has  been  found 
with  enough  hardihood  to  mirry  him — for  his  fortune  I  imagine, 
since  I  do  not  see  what  other  attraction  he  possesses." 

"  No,  skeptic.  It  was  a  love-match.  She  doesn't  care  for  his  for- 
tune ;  I  believe  she  would  prefer  him  without  it ;  and  if  ever  hus- 
b.tnd  idolized  a  wife,  he  idolizes  Leonore." 

"  Leonore — who?" 

"  Why  his  wife,  of  course — a  Miss  Leonore  Wakefield,  I  believe, 
before,  she  eonsente.l  to  become  Mrs.  Sterling." 

"  Leonore  Wtikefield ;  of  what  plice  ?" 

"  I  don't-  know  that,  if  indeed  any  one  does.  Lisle  married  her 
here,  where  she  was  well  known  and  much  admired,  I  believe.'' 

"  1  onc«  knew  a  Miss  Leonore  Waketiehl — a  beauty  so  called,  but 
too  much  upon  the  statuesque  order  for  my  fancy.  Is  she  young  ?" 

"  Not  one  year  Lisle's  junior,  and  certainly  a  beauty." 

"  And  they  quite  idolize  each  other,  eh  ?  '  Two  souls  with  but  a 
single  thought,  two  hearts  that  beat  as  one.'  Is  that  the  idea  ?" 

"  How  can  you  speak  in  that  contemptuouo  tone,  Louis  ?  If  you 
loved  me,  you  couldn't." 


274  THE  HOUSE  BEHIJSD  THE   POPLABS. 

"  Pardon  me,  Julie.  Other  people's  love  affairs  seem  very  different 
from  one's  own.  I'm  ture  I  wish  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sterling  much  hap- 
piness, which  is  more  than  they  will  ever  wish  me.  When  will  you 
make  me  entitled  to  it,  Julie?" 

"  Oh,  not  yet,  Louis.  I  do  not  wish  to  marry  without  Lisle's  con- 
sent, and  it  ib  useless  to  expect  it  yet.  He  will  change  in  time ;  and 
after  all,  there  is  no  occasion  for  haste.  We  are  young,  we  can 
wait." 

"  How  coolly  you  say  that !  I  am  not  young,  I  cannot  wait, — 
and  such  a  probation, — stealing  into  corners,  like  a  thief,  for  the 
bare  privilege  of  seeing  you !  I  will  not  endure  it,  Julie.  If  I  a'n 
not  to  meet  you  upon  equal  terms  with  your  most  indifferent 
acquaintance,  I  will  claim  you  at  once  ;  and  if  Lisle  Sterling  inter- 
feres, the  consequences  shall  rest  upon  his  own  head." 

Julie  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  such  a  collision.  Lisle 
wished  for  this  meeting,  was  even  now  doubtlessly  looking  the 
city  over  for  him.  He  was  her  promised  hu-baud,  he  must  not 
suffer  for  her.  In  distress  of  mind  she  clasped,  his  arm  beseechingly. 

"  Oh,  Louis,  go  away.     Leave  the  city  for  awhile  at  least." 

"Not  till  you  give  me  some  definite  and  s j tisi'actory  answer, 
Julie.  I  ask  you  definitely,  when  will  you  become  my  wife  ?" 

"  At  the  end  of  one  year,  Louis.  Give  me  this  one  year  in  which 
to  win  my  guardian's  consent  to  our  marriage.  Were  I  not  to  make 
every  effort  to  gain  it,  I  should  reproach  myself  forever  after. 
Think  of  all  he  has  been  to  me,  and  say  if  I  can  uselessly  give  him 
pain." 

"Let  him  suffer,  if  he  has  that  human  capability!  Others  do  so. 
Am  I  less  to  you  than  he,  that  you  thus  sacrifice  my  to  a  caprL  e  !" 

"  It  is  not  a  caprice.     But  call  it  what  you  will.     I  am  r,  solved." 

"Julie,  you  do  not  iove  me.  It  is  as  I  prophesied.  You  have 
heard  me  reviled  by  Sterling  and  his  wife,  till  your  love  has  quite 
faded  out,  and,  for  all  I  know,  the  irresistible  Edward  is  pressing 
his  suit  not  unsuccessfully.  It  would  seem  so." 

'  How  unreasonable  and  unjust  you  are  ! ' 

"Tell  me  truly,  then.  Is  Edward  only  as  a  brother  to  you  ?  Ah, 
you  cannot  answer!  I  knew  it.  Yet  you  ask  me  to 'go  away' 
trom  you,  to  '  wait.'  Like  all  women,  you  are  a  hypocrite  !'' 

"  Then  you  cannot  wish  me  for  your  wife,"  she  answered  coldly. 

" '  Wish!"1  Good  heavens,  Julie  !  I  don't  know  what  I  wish,  whut 
I  say!  I  am  frantic;  and  you  stand  there  so  coldly  !  Oh,  it  is  a 
simple  thing  for  you  to  banish  me,  and  that  indefinitely  !" 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  275 

The  clock  struck  ten.  In  alarm  Julie  sprang  fiom  his  detaining 
hand.  " Oh,  Louis,  go !  in  mercy's  name  go.  It  is  teu  o'clock!  I 
am  dying  with  fright  I" 

"  When  may  I  come  again  ?  You  will  not  thus  say  adieu  for  a 
year !" 

"  Come  Friday  evening,  then,  at  the  same  hour  as  to-night.  I 
dare  not  till  you  to  come  sooner.  Two  evenings  in  succession 
would  excite  curiosity,  as  I  am  never  out  alone.  But  do  be  pru- 
dent •" 

"  Never  fear.  Every  man  in  love  is  either  a  sneak  or  a  syco- 
phant !  It  is  a  part  of  the  experience." 

Julie's  eyes  flashed  resentfully.  But  there  was  no  time  for  protest, 
and  hastily  leading  him  to  the  garden  gate,  she  would  have  let  him. 
out  with  hasty  hand.  It  was  locked.  Joseph  had  carried  away 
the  key  for  the  night !  Louis  laughed. 

•'Oh,  Louis,  how  can  you ?  Do  you  realize  that  there  is  no  way 
to  get  through  this  gate  ?" 

"  I  realize  that  there  is  a  way  to  get  over  it.  Kiss  me  good-bye, 
dearest,  and  you  shall  see  how  easily  I  defy  locks  and  bars." 

He  kissed  her,  and  was  gone,  lightly  scaling  the  garden  paling 
in  his  egress ;  and  not  till  she  turned  up  the  pathway  alone,  did  her 
alarm  subside.  Half  way  between  the  gate  and  the  house  she  met 
Joseph,  who,  in  the  dark,  was  making  a  tour  of  the  grounds  with 
unusual  watclifulness.  He  nodded  familiarly  to  her  as  he  mada 
way  for  her  to  pass,  and  said  suspiciously, 

"  It's  a  oncommon  sort  o'  night  for  a  young  thing  like  you  to  be 
out  in.  Seems  as  it'  you  was  belated  like  in  your  walk." 

"  I  don't  see,  sir,  that  you  are  called  upon  to  make  any  comments," 
she  replied  with  cool  dignity. 

Joseph  tu;  ned  and  looked  after  her  as  she  ascended  the  steps  and 
went  in ;  then  settling  his  hat  more  upon  one  side  of  his  head,  ho 
said  with  a  cunning  leer, 

"  There  is  them  as  seems  to  think  Joe  Perkins  is  a  fool." 


276  1HK   UOISE   BEHIND    iUK   POPLARS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  hours  succeeding  to  that  stolen  interview,  were  filled  with 
eeasele.-s  alarm  and  Apprehension  to  Julie,  who  started  each  time  she 
was  unexpectedly  addressed,  and  quite  trembled  whenever  she  heard 
Lisle's  footsteps.  Had  he  met  Louis?  did  he  know  that  he  had  vis- 
ited her  under  his  very  root  ?  Reassured  once,  her  fears  continually 
returned,  and  she  at  each  instant  feared  to  hear  the  name,  which  us 
yet  remained  unmentioned,  bince  the  day  when  it  had  caused  such 
varied  emotions.  Struggling  as  she  was  between  inclination  and  duty, 
she  would  have  ventured  everything  <or  Leonore's  advice  and  sympa- 
thy, assured  that  whatever  might  be  her  personal  feelings  upon  the 
subject,  she  woul.l  respect  the  confidence  and  keep  it  inviolably.  But 
Leonore  herself  seemed  troubled  and  pre-occupied,  remaining  much 
in  her  own  room  as  a  tacit  intimation  that  she  desired  solitude,  and 
only  rousing  to  anything  like  animation  when  Lisle  was  near.  Aghin 
nnd  again  Julie  raised  her  eyes  to  her  face  as  if  seeking  in  it  counige 
to  commence  her  revelation  and  plead  for  that  influence  with  L:sle 
which  Leonore  so  perfectly  possessed  ;  but  it  was  not  a  sympathetic 
glance  that  met  her  own,  and  the  manifest  cloud  chilled  her  to  utter 
silence. 

Much  as  Julie  lelt  that  an  interchange  of  confidence  and  sympa- 
thy might  benefit  both  herself  and  Leonore,  there  was  a  certain  name- 
less feeling  of  c  •mairuint  infused  into  her  very  affection  for  her,  which 
rendered  her  incapable  of  assuming  the  initiative.  Even  in  her  most 
communicative  moods  there  was  nbout  Leonore  a  certain  air  of  reserve 
and  moral  fastidiousness  impossible  to  encroach  upon,  and  it  is  rarely 
indeed  that  one  woman  chooses  lor  a  confidante  another  whv  yields 
no  confidence  in  return. 

Wh.it  was  it  that  so  oppressed  her  ev  n  now  ?  Not  one  word  or 
allusion  gave  the  slightest  indication,  and  the  effort  she  made  to  con- 
ceal from  Lisle  the  very  evidence  that  she  was  illy  at  case,  proved 
that  she  desired  no  confidant.  Perplexed  as  she  was  with  her  own 
interests,  Julio  scarcely  queried  over  this,  only  tacitly  admitting 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   FOl'LAKS.  277 

and  acting  upon  the  fact,  convinced  that  there  was  no  one  who  couLl 
aid  her  to  see  and  do  the  right  in  the  position  in  which  she  was 
placed. 

It  seemed  that  the  hours  had  never  passed  so  slowly  as  those  dur- 
ing which  she  felt  ceaselessly  in  peril — -that  the  time  when,  Louis 
definitely  answered  and  dismissed  for  a  whole  year,  she  should  be 
once  more  at  ease,  would  never  come  !  But  the  day  dawned  at  last, 
and  she  counted  the  very  moments  to  eight  o'clock. 

What  transpires  in  the  parlor  is  always  discussed  in  the  kitchen, 
and  the  observing  Joseph  was  not  in  ignorance  that  both  ladies* 
were  anxious  and  silent  when  not  compelled  to  exert  themselves  for 
others.     Drawing  in  his  hollow  cheeks  till  nothing  remained  but 
two  cavernous  recesses,  he  said  to  the  Infant, 

"  Old  lady,  there's  things  a-brewin'  in  this  here  family.  There's 
a  smash  of  a  certain  natur'  a  coming,  and  you'd  best  stand  from 
under.  The  madam  has  got  an  awful  attack  of  the  peculiarities,  the 
young  miss  is  a  worriting,  and  Mr.  Edward  a-racking  of  his  wits  to 
find  out  what  it's  all  about.  The  master's  as  blind  as  a  bat,  old  lady, 
and  there  is  them  as  is  a-calculating  on  it !" 

Mrs.  Perkins  turned  upon  him  with  serious  reproof. 

"Joseph,  it's  neither  kind  nor  becoming  for  a  young  man  like  you 
are,  to  turn  against  them  as  is  his  betters,  not  to  mention  all  tiie 
years  I've  served  him  faithful !  Dear  me !  When  I  think  how 
Master  Sterling,  which  was  then  but  a  slim  chance  of  a  lad,  dear 
knows!  come  to  the  old  plantation  along  with  his  uncle  which  was 
the  kindest  old  gentleman,  God  rest  his  soul,  though  lie  didn't 
know  but  little  or  nothing  about  children  and  their  little  hankerings, 
which  i  ow  should  he  and  he  a  bachellor .'  and  when  I  think  how 
Master  Louis — which  was  a  -ort  of  relation  to  both  of  'em,  bc-iug  as 
Mr.  Fitzjames  was  a  near  being  his  true  and  lawful  parent,  turned 
out  so  miserable  and  ongrateful,  handsome  as  he  was — well  it  a  just 
seems  to  me  this  blessed  family  is  my  family,  and  their  griefs  is  my 
griefs,  which  dear  knows  ! ' 

"  Well ;  then  let  me  tell  you,  old  girl,  you've  got  enough  of  'em, 
and  more !  I  tell  you  things  is  a- working :" 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  Joseph,  that  the  mistress  has  some- 
thing on  her  mind  as  is  onhealthy  and  discomforting  to  her.  I'm 
not  blind,  and  I  see  it.  Sweet,  pretty  creature  which  she  is,  and 
gentle  as  the  day  is  long,  she  an't  just  the  sort  of  wife  for  Master 
Sterling,  who  wants  one  of  them  capable  worn  n  which  is  gay  and 
rollicking  and  wouldn't  go  off  with  a  fit  every  time  he  gets  a  cloud 


278  THE   1IOU3B  BEHIND  TUB  POPLAU3. 

on  his  face.  The  little  wife  don't  belong  to  the  rollicking  sort,  and 
she's  u-growing  further  from  it  everyday.  Even  maid  Margaret, 
close-mouthed  which  she  is,  lets  drop  a  word  now  and  then  as  shows 
she's  a  human,  though  you  wouldn't  think  it ;  and  he  wus  a  sighing 
only  this  niornin/,  that  her  mistress  cried  more  than  enough,  and 
didn't  take  naturally  to  being  comforted.  Poor  dear,  Lord  knows 
wha'  it's  all  about !" 

"  Yes,  and  so  docs  Joe  Perkins,"  ejacul.iteJ  that  personage  sagely. 
"  You,  Joseph  ?     You  don't  say  so,  now  I"  said  the  old  dame  wak- 
ing to   active  interest,  and  pausing  with  her  fluting-iron   closely 
clinging  to  a  smoking  ruffle. 

''Maybe  I  don't,  then,  if  you  say  so,"  he  replied  aggravatingly. 
"  But  do  tell  me,  Joseph,  what  should  a  young  man  like  you 
know  of  the  secrets  of  a  fine  lady  like  the  mistress.    It's  impossible, 
Joseph !" 

"  There  is  them  as  thinks  Joe  Perkins  a  fool ;  but  he  knows  the 
troubles  of  the  madam,  and  he  knows  the  worrit  of  the  young  mis  ." 
"  For  mer  y's  sake,  Joseph  1     Well,  now,  make  a  clean  breast «  f 
it,  and  you'll  feel  better,  dear." 

"  Thank  you,  old  lady,  I  feel  pretty  well  now.  I  shan't  tell  you  a 
word,  for  all  the  world  knows  a  young  woman  can't  keep  secrets,  let 
alone  an  old  one.  When  this  one  gets  ripe,  J^e  Perkins'll  feather 
his  nest,  sure  as  you  live,  old  girl !  I'll  blow  right  out  into  a  gen- 
tleman, then,  and  we'll  sec  who'll  kick  me  down  the  steps  for  just 
speaking  to  a  fine  lady  !-  Great  lady  sh,e  is,  too,  /  tell  you  !" 

Kind  old  Mrs.  Perkins  was  but  a  woman,  after  all,  and  her  curi- 
osity was  tortured.  Approaching  Joseph,  she  laid  her  hand 
caressingly  upon  his  knee  decorated  with  a  generous  patch  placed 
there  by  her  own  careful  fingers. 

"  Come,  now,  Joseph,  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  Partners,  which 
we  truly  are,  shouldn't  have  secrets  from  one  another  this  way.  It's 
been  so  long  .4nce  I've  had  a  real  good  secret  to  keep,  that  I'm  fall- 
ing off  in  flesh.  What's  the  trouble  of  the  mistress,  now  ?  Theie'a 
a  dear !" 

Joseph  gave  voice  to  a  mocking  laugh.  * 

"  No  you  don't,  old  lady!  It's  along  o."  you  the  pretty  cook  was 
sent  off;  it's  along  of  you  that  my  speculations  is  a'inost  done  up, 
and  my  stup-son  in-la  v  likely  to  come  to  grief  in  spite  of  his  step- 
father-in-law  being  in  a  rich  place  as  ought  to  put  hourly  money  in 
our  pockets.  Poor  Melissa  han't  had  a  new  bunnet  since  she  got 
m.riied,  and  she's  as  slip-shod  as  poverty !  This  place  would  bo 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLARS.  279 

something  handsome  for  us,  it'  you  didn't  just  lay  yourself  out  to  do 
me  all  the  damage  as  is  doable." 

"  Well,  Joseph ;  tell  nut  all  this  as  I'm  hankering  to  know,  and 
I'll  give  you  half  my  this  month's  pay  to  do  what  you  like  with." 

"  Can't  do  it  for  that,  old  lady.  I've  the  feelings  o  a  step-father- 
in-law  in  my  bosom,  and  I  can't  forget  as  there's  a  step-grandchild 
as  looks  to  me  to  do  something  handsome  at  its  christening." 

"  Well,  all  this  month's  pay  then.  The  secret's  worth  it,  let  alone 
the  grandchild  ai  is  my  own  flesh  and  blood,  if  it  is  mixed  !" 

"And  you'll  make  a  big  pudding  for  me  to  take  round  to  Bill  and 
Melissa  as  haven't  laid  toot.i  to  a  pudding  this  long  time  2  a  tomato 
pudding  with  onions  into  it?'' 

Mis.  Perkins  rose  indignantly. 

"That's  what  I  won't,  Joseph.  Partners  is  partners,  and  I'll  do 
what  is  right  by  you ;  but  ongratei'ul  offspring  isn't  to  be  tolerated, 
and  I'll  go  secretless  to  my  grave  belore  I'll  stew  and  fry  any  more 
for  greedy  Bill.  I'm  shut  of  him,  aud  shut  of  him  I'll  stay." 

"  And  the  secret  ?" 

"  You'll  be  punished  for  it,  depend  upon  it.  '  What  comes  over 
the  devil's  back,  goes  under  his  belly  ;'  which  means,  as  you  couldn't 
have  come  by  it  honestly,  you'll  get  no  satisfaction  out  of  it." 

Joseph  laughed.  "  Well,  be  consoled,  old  lady  ;  if  I'd  told  you  at 
all,  I  shouldn't  have  told  you  right  and  fair.  You've  only  saved  me 
the  trouble  of  fishing  up  a  yarn  for  the  occasion,''  and  plunging  his 
fist  into  his  hut  to  improve  its  shape,  he  tossed  it  upon  his  head,  and 
sauntered  out. 

In  serene  unconsciousness  of  the  comments  so  freely  uttered,  Lco- 
nore  kept  her  room,  and  Julie  mused  over  her  unsatisfactory  position. 
There  was  more  of  real  discomfort  than  pleasure  in  such  interviews 
with  one,  who,  dear  as  he  was,  caused  her  all  this  uneasinet-s  and  ap- 
prehension, nor  could  she  conceal  from  herself  that  her  t£/.s-a-te'es 
with  Louis  were  always  tinged  with  ^onie  unpleasantness  which  re- 
mained long  alter  the  visits  were  over. 

It  might  be,  as  he  said,  that  all  this  which  so  pained,  often 
angered  her,  sprang  from  the  very  ardor  of  his  love  for  her  ;  but  it 
lingered  disagreebly  in  her  memory,  and  seemed  to  her  wilful 
injustice  and  tyranny.  He  doubted  her,  often  actually  accused  h  i  ; 
uncl  her  resentment  remained  despite  the  tender  words  with  \vh  cli 
he  strove  to  allay  it.  For  the  first  time  she  now  asked  herself  if 
dispositions  so  unattuncd  to  each  other  were  consistent  with  a;iy 
asting  happineos;  aud  in  silent  contrast  to  the  violence  she  clepie- 


280  THE. HOUSE   BEUIXD   THE   POPLA.RS. 

cated,  arose  the  memory  of  Edward's  invariable  kindness  and 
gentleness  toward  her.  She  banished  the  thought  as  soon  as  it 
arose,  as  if  its  very  existence  were  a  species  of  infidelity  against 
Louis;  but  as  if  in  revenge  for  the  effort,  it  came  again  and  ag.iia, 
linked  with  many  recollections  till  now  unnumbered. 

Louis's  jealously  had  suggested  the  very  thing  he  feared;  for  it 
bad  never  before  occurred  to  her  to  00.11  pare  the  one  witli  the  other. 
Already  he  suffered  by  the  comparison  ; — he  would  continue  to  do 
so  whenever  in  the  future  discord  should  arise  between  them,  as  it 
so  often  did,  despite  their  mutual  affection. 

She  was  no  advocate  of  "  lover's  quarrels ;"  and  for  the  first  time 
her  promise  of  marriage  struck  her  as  rash.  Free  from  the  fascina- 
tion of  his  presence,  ^he  reasoned  calmly.  Perhaps,  could  she 
courageously  confess  her  engagement  to  him,  Lisle's  most  effective 
argument  against  a  marriage  he  must  detest,  would  lie  in  authoriz- 
ing Louis's  visits  to  her,  satisfied  that  as  she  knew  him  better  she 
must  like  him  less.  It  was  a  dangerous  thought  for  a  fiancte,  and 
she  felt  it  a  wicked  one ;  but  it  was  with  her  when  Lisle  returned 
home  this  eventful  evening,  and  but  for  the  mental  reminder  that 
her  positive  promise  was  beyond  recall,  she  would  even  yet  have 
given  him  her  confidence,  and  appealed  to  his  generosity  for  aid 
and  counsel. 

"  You  are  late  to-day,"  said  Leonore,  going  forward  to  meet  him. 

''  Yes,  little  one,  I  was  detained.  At  the  last  moment,  we  decided 
to  go  in  grand  pariy  to  hear  '  Faust '  to-night,  and  I  had  to  go  for 
the  box  tickets.  Here,  I  have  them ;  the  Venards,  Bertrams  and 
Sterlings.  Are  you  pleased,  or  would  you  have  preferred  remaining 
at  home  to-night  ?'' 

"  I  must  stay  at  home,  Lisle.  I  h  ive  been  ill  all  day  with  a  head- 
ache, and  I  don't  think  the  'Soldier's  Chorus'  would  alleviate  it. 
You  must  all  go  without  me,  please." 

'•Not  to  be  thought  of,  child  !  Edward  and  Julie  shall  represent 
our  illustrious  family,  and  I'll  remain  as  nurse." 

Julie  interposed,  seeking  fur  any  oxcus  •  that  would  enable  h-  r  to 
keep  her  engagement  with  Louis. 

"  Let  me  stay  with  Leonore,  Lisle.  It  is  more  than  probable  Mr. 
Bertram  will  refuse  to  go  at  the  last  moment,  and  two  gentlemen 
can't  be  spared.  I  don't  care  to  hear  '  Faust.'  I  don't  like  the 
stoiy,  and  I've  no  idea  it  is  improved  by  being  told  to  music.  I 
would  rather  ijot  go,  thank  you." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS.  281 

"  Well,  Edward,  let  ua  hear  from  you ; "  said  Lisle.  "  But  be  sure 
you  decline,  for  families  shouldn't  be  divided  in  opinion." 

"  I  should  very  much  like  to  go,"  replied  Edward  decidedly  ;  •'  but 
my  doing  so  depends  entirely  upon  Julie,  as  I  certainly  will  not  go 
without  her.  Married  ladies  may  be  very  pretty  and  agreeable,  out 
one  doesn't  like  always  to  be  confined  to  their  society.  Beside, 
they  do  such  a  vast  amount  of  patronizing  toward  youtig  gentlemen, 
a  sort  of  moral  patting  on  the  head,  that  is  trying  to  the  leeling.s  of 
a  sensitive  youth  !  Do  go,  Julie." 

Placed  in  an  embarrassing  position  from  which  there  was  no  rea- 
sonable method  of  escape,  she  felt  constrained  to  yield ;  but  she 
made  amends  for  it  by  exclaiming  with  evident  pique, 

"  Why  upon  earth,  Lisle,  can't  you  gentlemen  ever  do  anything 
decently  and  in  order  !  Here  has  '  Faust '  been  named  for  to-night, 
for  days  and  days,  and  you  say  nothing  of  going  till  the  last  hour  ! 
These  surprise  parties  of  pleasure  are  seldom  surprisingly  pleasant. 
I  haven't  sent  word  to  my  hair-dresser,  nor  gotten  anything 
ready." 

He  laughed  as  he  always  did  when  he  saw  any  exhibition  of  fem- 
inine temper ;  but  he  answered  consolingly, 

"  Never  mind,  little  sister.  You  look  best  with  your  hair  right 
side  out  and  untortured,  and  as  for  '  getting  ready,'  you  are  beauti- 
ful in  anything.  Let  us  come  to  dinner,  and  you'll  grow  philoaophi- 
cal." 

There  wn  nothing  else  to  be  done  ;  and  resolving  to  leave  a  note 
in  the  sum-aer-house,  explaining  her  absence  and  appointing 
anoiher  meeting,  she  resigned  herself  to  her  fate  with  what  grace 
she  could  summon.  She  left  the  table  to  dress,  leaving  the  others 
with  their  coffee,  which  Leonore  rather  absently  toyed  with  instead 
of  drinking,  as  listlessly  she  poured  it  out  in  spoonfuls,  leaning  her 
pale  face  in  her  hand.  Lisle  watched  her  affectionately. 

"  Poor  Leonore !"  said  he  at  last.  •'  You  are  really  suffering.  You 
must  let  me  stay  at  home  with  you,  as  indeed  I  would  rather." 

She  smiled  reassuringly.  "Oh.no  Lisle.  I  am  better  than  I 
was ;  a  night's  sleep  will  quite  cure  me.  I  won't  consent  to  your 
remaining." 

Lisle  stood  beside  her,  gently  stroking  her  hair  as  she  smiled  up 
at  him,  and  only  Edwurd  saw  the  look  of  anguish  that  passed  ovor 
her  f  ice  as  she  laid  it  again  and  suddenly  in  her  hand.  Why,  he 
could  not  have  told,  but  the  conviction  flashed  upon  him  that  ib 
waa  a  mental  ailment  from  which  she  was  cuffering,  uud  that  sonu 


282  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

crisis  was  impending  which  she  dreaded.  Little  as  he  knew  of 
her,  that  scene  with  Joseph  the  evening  he  had  kicked  him  down 
the  area  stairs,  had  left  an  ineflfacable  impression  upon  his  mind,  and 
it  came  up  before  him  vividly  now,  linked  with  her  whole  deport- 
ment. 

It  was  plain  to  him  that,  devotedly  as  she  loved  Lisle,  happy  as 
they  appeared  to  all  casual  observers,  some  p  liuful  secret  existed  in 
her  life,  which  he  was  not  allowed  to  share,  and  which  at  times  c  .st 
its  shadow  over  them  both,  strive  as  they  might  to  resist  it.  The 
thought  was  uppermost  in  his  mind  as  he  noted  the  tenderness  of 
their  parting  when  the  carriage  was  driven  ri  uud,  and  saw  again 
that  expression  of  utter  misery  upon  the  face  she  turned  longingly 
after  them  as  they  drove  away.  In  the  fresh  wind  she  lingered  in 
the  open  gate  till  the  darkness  rendered  each  invisible  to  the  other, 
and  then  turned  wearily  away. 

She  was  quite  alone  now,  and,  as  if  goicled  by  the  very  demon  of 
restlessness,  she  paced  back  and  forth  with  impuLive  steps  till  utter 
exhaustion  forced  her  to  cease ;  and  seeking  the  sofa,  she  threw  her- 
self upon  it  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  At  length  she 
arose  and  looked  around  her,  as  if  compelling  herself  to  brave  some- 
thing from  which  escape  was  impossible. 

The  moon  was  rising,  and  its  soft  beams  lighted  the  yard  upon 
which,  approaching  the  window,  she  1  joked  steadily  out.  Although 
it  was  midwinter,  the  night  was  one  of  those  warm,  balmy  ones 
which  so  often  light  up  the  southern  winter,  and,  oppressed  by  her 
own  gloomy  thought?,  stifled  in  the  lonely  parlor  where  thj  gas 
burned  dimly  aud  low,  she  tossed  a  light  veil  o  ver  her  head  as  a 
protection  from  the  dew,  and  strolled  out  to  the  summerhouse,  look- 
ing so  peaceful  aud  serene  amid  its  blooming  vines  slightly  agitated 
by  the  breeze.  As  she  entered  it . thoughtfully  and  with  downcast 
eyes,  some  one  sprang  forward  and  caught  her  in  his  arms.  InvoL 
untarily  sue  uttered  a  suppressed  scream.  Her  lips  were  silenced 
with  a  storm  of  rapturous  kisses,  and  a  laughing  voice  exclaimed, 

"  You  are  rightly  punished,  little  tyrant,  lor  having  kept  uio 
waiting  here  a  half  hour  at  least !  Oh,  Julie,  how  could  you?'' 

Leouore  gasped  and  turned  sick  as  she  recv>guize  1  the  tones  of  a 
voice  not  unfamiliar  to  her  ear,  and  for  one  instant  she  was  power, 
less  even  to  move.  Then  rousing  he  self,  &he  pushed  him  from  her 
with  a  movement  of  loathing  and  disgust,  as  sha  exclaimed, 

"  Louis  Hartley,  what  brings  you  here  V 

Seizing  her  arm  with  a  grasp  more  eager   than  polite,  he  drew 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  283 

her  into  the  moonlight,  and  gazed  into  her  face,  with  a  mocking 
smile  upon  his  lips,  till,  apparently  satisfied,  he  made  her  a  saluta- 
tion of  mock  reverence,  and  said,  gallantly  kissing  her  hand, 

"  Fair  Leonore,  you  honor  me.  I  had  not  anticipated  the  pleas- 
ure of  this  interview." 

Her  face  actually  convulsed  with  the  Hitter  scorn  that  rendered 
her  speechless,  and  contemplating  the  hand  he  had  kissed,  she 
struck  it  with  all  her  force  against  the  lattice,  and  turned  abruptly 
to  leave  him.  Stepping  before  her,  he  barred  her  way.  Her  lips 
quivered  with  anger,  and  raising  her  hand  she  would  have  struck 
him  had  he  not  prevented  her.  She  wrenched  her  arm  from  his 
grasp,  and  forcing  voice  she  demanded, 

"Why  are  you  here,  Louis  Hartley,  and  what  under  heaven  do 
you  want  of  me  ?" 

"  I  want  very  little  of  you,  amiable  lady.    I  am  here  to  see  Julie.'1 
"  What,  have  you  dared  to  write  her  ?     I  recognized  your  writing 
in  a  letter  addressed  to  her  two  days  ago." 

"If  you  saw  the  letter,  you  doubtlessly  know  what  it  contained. 
You  owe  me  no  thanks,  though,  for  my  silence  in  regard  to  you, 
for  at  that  time  I  had  no  suspicion  whom  Lisle  Sterling  called  his 
wife.  That  knowledge  came  later ;  but  even  then  I  was  silent. 
Not  a  word  or  hint  has  passed  my  lips." 

"Incredible!"  she  exclaimed,  fixing  upon  him  a  piercing  glance. 
"Not  at  all,  when  you  know  the  secret  of  it.     I  intend  10  make 
Julie  Kelley  my  wife,  and  I  can't  afford  to  indulge  in  revelations." 
His  mocking  manner  made  her  skeptical,  and  she  replied, 
"Julie  become  the  wife  of  such  a  creature  as  you  !     Impossible." 
"  You  are  not  complimentary,  fair  lady ;  but  let  me  remind  you 
that  even  '  such  a  creature  '  has  been  highly  favored  in  the  past.     I 
am  not  afraid  to  test  the  truth  by  Julie's  own  reply,  and  I  hope 
inoinently,  that,  she  may  come  to  gi\e  it." 

"  She  is  out;  gone  to  the  opera.     She  will  not  come  to-night." 
"  Then  she  must  have  left  some  message.     Let  us  search." 
Leonore  stoo.l  and  silently  watched  him  as  he  began  a  starch  in 
whose  sincerity  she  did  not  even  yet  believe.     As  she  doubted  ami 
queried,  an  ejaculation  of  delight  fell  upon  her  ear.     There  whcro 
they  had  sat  among  the  shadows  when  he  had- visited  her  before, 
lay  the  litt.e  souvenir  he  sought,  find  he  waved  it  aloft  triumphantly, 
before  reading  it  aloud. 

"  Dear  Louis,  I  am  compelled  to  go  out  this  evening,  despite  my 
engagement  with  you.  I  am  more  disappointed  than  I  can  express, 


284  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  IHE  POPLARS. 

for  this  suspense  and  ceaseless  alarm  are  terrible.  Don't  fail  to  come 
to-morrow  night,  at  the  same  hour  as  heretofore.  If  I  live  I  will  not 
then  disappoint  you." 

He  had  told  the  truth  then.  Julie  loved  this  man  who  to  her  was 
to  utterly  hateful  and  abhorrent!  Leonore  stood  speechless,  con- 
vinced. Louis  approached  her  with,  more  gentleness,  saying  per- 
suasively, 

"  Now,  Leonore,  secret  for  secret.  I  have  yours,  you  have  mine, 
or  rather  Julie's,  since  she  in  any  event  would  be  the  only  real  suf- 
ferer. You  cannot  take  her  from  me,  but  you  cau  make  her  misera- 
ble. She  has  vowed  to  marry  me,  and  she  will  keep  the  promise, 
whatever  you  do." 

"  She  will  not,  she  shall  not.  If  I  cannot  prevent  her,  I  will  tell 
nil  to  my  husband  who  assuredly  can  and  will." 

"  No  you  won't,  Leonore.     You  will  keep  silence." 

"  How  dare  you,  sir  ?"  she  exclaimed,  resenting  his  tone  and  man- 
ner. 

"  I  repeat  that  you  will  tell  him  nothing.  You  dare  not  defy  me 
at  the  price  I  will  make  it  cost  you.  I  have  not  known  you  all  these 
years  to  need  the  assurance  now,  that  you  have  not  revealed  the  past 
to  him  as  I  could  reveal  it — yes,  and  prove  it,  too  !  and  I  know  him 
well  enough  to  know  he  never  would  have  married  you  had  you  been 
truthful  enough  to  do  so.  He  may  love  you  very  devotedly,  Leouore 
— you  have  a  gift  of  inspiring  devotion  when  you  choose — but  he  ia 
not  angelic  in  his  disposition,  and  I  hate  him  sufficiently  to  drive 
him  to  the  madness  I  can  inflict  upon  him.  You  had  better  be  pru- 
dent, Leonore.  You  know  how  much  reason  I  have  to  shield  you.n 

"  And  because  you  hate  me,  you  would  wreak  vengeance  upon  my 
husband  ?" 

"  Ah,  fair  lady,  that  is  the  second  time  that  word  has  fallen  so 
sweetly  from  your  lips !  To  think  that  I  should  once  have  plead  in 
vain  for  that  enviable  title  !  '  Husband  '  or  not,  I  hate  Lisle  Ster- 
ling for  his  own  sweet  sak«,  as  he  knows.  Strange  that  yoa  two,  of 
ail  the  world,  should  have  married  each  other  !  Ah,  sweet  creature, 
do  yon  remember  how  \ou  hurled  me  from  your  door,  iu  one  of  your 
angelic  tempers  long  ago  ?" 

"I  remember  too  much  which  I  would  give  my  life  to  forget !  15ut 
of  what  use  is  all  this  reminiscence.  Say  what  you  really  have  to 
say,  and  begone.  The  very  air  you  infest  is  hateful  to  me  !" 

'Then  let  me  assure  you  of  this.  As  I  love  vengeance,  if  you 
utter  to  Lisle  Sterling  one  word  concerning  me  or  my  alla.rs,  01  .11 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE  POPLARS.  285 

any  way  arouse  his  suspicion  relative  to  a  matter  which  I  do  not  at 
present  wish,  him  to  know  for  reasons  of  my  own,  I  will  just  so 
surely  tell  him  what  I  know  of  your  little  life  history,  and  reveal  to 
him  that  part  which  you  would  so  gladly  wash  out  by  tears  of 
blood  could  they  efface  it.  You  have  your  choice,  Leonore.  If  you 
select  the  path  of  wisdom  and  prudence,  you  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  me,  but  if  you  decide  for  war,  you  shall  have  it  to  the  bitter 
end.  We  may  as  well  understand  each  other,  Leonore." 

"Who  will  believe  the  words  of  a  felon,  arrested  as  you  will  be 
the  moment  Lisle  encounters  you  ?" 

"  Passsion  roba  you  of  sense,  Lronore.  I  need  not  be  «  encounter- 
ed,' to  carry  my  threat  into  effect.  Ink  and  paper  speak  at  any  dis- 
tance, and  even  did  they  not,  the  law  is  powerless  Against  me  here, 
save  by  an  amount  of  circumlocution  which  Lisle  himself  would  not 
invoke  in  so  doubtful  a  case  as  mine.  I  shall  have  ample  time  and 
oppoitunity  for  any  scheme  I  may  design.  How  have  you  silenced 
Joseph  Perkins,  gossip  lovers  as  all  servants  are  ?  What  have  you 
done  with — " 

She  raised  her  hand  in  mute  entreaty  for  forbearance,  and  a  cold 
tremor  shook  her  as  she  sank  against  the  latticework  for  support. 
Her  anger  had  subsided,  and  in  its  place  reigned  a  dull  despair  and 
utter  humiliation  of  spirit.  She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  un- 
heeding the  gaze  Louis  fixed  steadily  upon  her.  Some  little  g  earn 
of  compassion  dawned  within  him,  for  gently  enough  forcing  her  to 
be  seated,  he  said  more  calmly, 

"  Why  will  you  inflict  all  this  upon  yourself,  Leonore  ?  Heaven 
is  my  witness  that  I  never  intended  to  have  molested  you.  You 
were  as  one  actually  dead,  to  me,  and  accident  alone  has  thrown  us 
once  more  together.  Even  now  we  need  not  be  enemies.  Leave 
me  in  peace,  and  upon  my  honor  as  a  gentleman  I  will  do  the  same 
by  you.  I  know  how  much  you  have  at  stake,  and  I  do  not  wonder 
that  the  sight  of  me  is  hateful  to  you.  But  be  comforted.  When  I 
accomplish  what  I  came  here  to  do,  I  shall  go  away,  and  it  is  for 
you  alone  to  decide  whether  you  will  remain  as  I  found  you." 

She  raised  her  face  and  looked  at  him. 

"  Tell  me,  then,  what  you  require  of  me.  If  I  am  to  aid  you, 
even  silently,  tell  me  what'is  you  propose." 

"  Why  I  hav :  told  you  already.  I  propose  to  marry  Julie  Kellcy 
with  her  own  consent,  though  possibly  without  her  guardian's. 
Her  little  fortune  is  her  own  independent  of  any  caprice  of  his,  and 
with  what  I  have  I  can  support  her  as  is  due  to  her,  and  I  will  ta.ke 


286  7!HE   HOUSE   BEHIND  THE  POPLA.KS. 

her  away,  perhaps  to  Europe,  where  the  sight  of  us  shall  afflict  no 
one.  I  shall  marry  her  because  I  love  her,  and,  though  you  may 
doubt  it,  I  shaH  make  her  a  good  husband." 

"Louis  Hartley,  you  never  loved  any  one  but  yourself.  If  Julie 
becomes  you  wife  she  will  repent  it  in  suffering  and  humiliation." 

"Then  congratulate  yourself  that  you  are  not  responsible.  How- 
ever you  may  believe  in  your  own  prophecy,  you  have  now  to  choose 
between  her  humiliation  and  your  own,  or  more  justly  Lisle's.  Is 
|it  then  se  very  difficult  to  keep  silence  about  what,  after  all,  does 
not  concern  you  ?  Julie  has  as  much  judgment  to  guide  her  as  most 
young  ladies  who  are  suffered  to  exercise  it ;  and  remember,  the 
very  worst  you  could  tell  her  of  me,  little  favor  as  you  bear  me, 
would  not  have  the  weight  with  her  which  it  has  with  you.  You 
cannot  risk  so  much  to  gain  so  little,  Leonore,  believe  me." 

She  rose  slowly  and  turned  away  without  a  word.  He  caught 
her  dress  in  a  detaining  clasp. 

"  Your  promise.  Leonore.     I  cannot  let  you  go  without  that." 

"  Do  you  not  see  that  you  have  it  ?     What  choice  have  I  ?" 

"None,  in  very  truth.  Let  me  advise  you,  Leonore,  to  remove 
thos^  blood  stains  from  your  dress,  and  to  make  some  healing  appli- 
cation to  that  hand  which  seems  determined  to  tell  its  own  story.'' 

It  was  true;  the  blood  which  had  oozed  from  her  wounded  hand 
had  left  its  stain  upon  the  light  silk  of  her  robe.  She  looked  down 
upon  it  indifferently,  and  upon  the  hand  itself,  purple  and  some- 
what swollen;  then  dragging  the  veil  from  her  head  with  an 
apathetic  force  that  brought  down  the  whole  mass  of  her  hair  with 
it,  she  wrapped  it  round,  and  walking  slowly  past  him  without  one 
word  of  adieu. 

Standing  as  she  ha-1  left  him,  Louis  watched  her  as  she  passed 
under  the  drooping  branches  and  at  last  disappeared.  One  final 
glimpse  he  caught  of  her  standing  cold  and  white  on  the  moonlit 
gallery,  her  hair  hanging  heavily  down  her  neck  and  bust,  her 
whole  attitude  one  of  utter  dejection  and  misery. 

A  suppressed  chuckle  fell  upon  his  ear  from  among  the  shrubbery 
near,  and  Louis  saw  the  ungainly  figure  of  Joseph  Perkins  creep 
out  into  the  light.  With  one  step  he  approached  him,  and  laid  his 
hand  heavily  on  his  shoulder. 

Joseph  raised  his  hat  with  a  salute  of  recognition,  and,  obeying  a 
mute  command,  followed  him  out  into  the  street,  and  the  t»vo  weut 
away  together. 


287 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 

THE  morning  sun  streamed  broadly  into  the  family  parlor  where 
Leonore's  favorite  seat  was  unoccupied ;  the  fire,  laid  more  for  bright- 
ness than  for  warmth,  smouldered  and  smoked  in  the  grate  as  if  loth 
to  throw  out  its  brightness  with  no  one  to  admire  it,  and  the  bright 
plumaged  bird,  tired  of  having  chirruped  in  v;dn  for  a  familiar  face, 
now  sc  reamed  in  a  fretful  tone  that  added  to  the  general  desolate- 
ness  and  discomfort  of  the  room. 

It  was  with  a  moody  and  troubled  brow  that  Lisle  glanced  in 
upon  hh  way  to  the  breakfast  room  whither  the  bell  had  summoned 
h  m,  and  where  Edward  awaited  his  coming,  consoling  himself  with 
the  morning  paper  for  the  delayed  breakfast. 

Julie  entered  late,  as  young  ladies  generally  do,  and  she  laughed 
blithely  at  the  two  sombre  faces  which  met  her  view.  Scarcely  a 
word  had  been  interchanged  between  the  brothers,  Lisle  being  in  no 
humor  for  conversation,  and  Edward  feeling  that  he  was  so.  His 
eyes  were  swollen  for  want  of  sleep,  and  his  face  was  pale. 

Julie  saw  this  as  he  looked  up  in  answer  to  her  salutation,  and 
asked  hastily, 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Lisle,  and  where  is  Leonore  ?  Isn't  she 
coming  to  breakfast  ?" 

"  I  am  tired  and  ill.  Leonore  is  not  in  her  room,  and  it  is  problem, 
atical  when  she  will  breakfast  with  us  again." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Lisle  ?"  she  demanded  in  surprise. 
Lisle  hesitated  a  moment  as  if  at  alcss  how  to  explain,  then  said 
with  an  evident  effort  at  serenity, 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you  once  for  all,  Julie,  that  when  I  married, 
Lronore,  I  promised  to  leave  her  in  the  fullest  possession  of  her  in- 
dependence, and  never  to  attempt  to  interpose  my  will  in  place  of 
her  own.  I  knew  that  she  was  singular  in  many  respects,  quite  un- 
accountably so  in  some.  In  short,  I  knew,  for  she  told  me,  that 
there  is  in  her  life  some  history  which  she  chooses  to  rove  il  to  no 
one,  and  I  certainly  claim  no  right  to  question  her  concerning  it. 


188  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

This  absence,  so  unexpected  to  us,  to  me  as  to  you,  is  connected  with 
that  history,  and  for  this  reason  I  trust  you  will  allow  it  to  pass  with- 
out comment.  If  her  absence  is  suspected  by  her  '  dear  five  hundred 
friends,' you  will  be  subject  to  every  variety  of  social  prying  per- 
missible in  the  polite  world,  and  I  make  you  this  explanation,  that 
you  may  know  how  to  receive  it." 

Too  much-  surprised  to  reply,  Julie  bowed  in  silence,  and,  seeing 
that  he  had  quite  finished,  Edward  broached  some  indifferent  topic, 
and  the  breakfast  proceeded  as  usual. 

As  Lisle  went  out  into  the  hall,  he  met  Mrs.»Perkins,  who  said 
mysteriously,  and  with  a  sympathetic  face  which  she  thought  proper 
under  the  circumstances,  little  as  she  understood  them, 

"If  you  please,  sir,  the  coachman  is  waiting  on  the  back  gallery; 
which  he  wants  a  word  with  you." 

Turning,  Lisle  went  back  to  the  door,  where  James  awaited  him. 

"  Please,  sir,  the  madam's  saddle  pony  is  missing,"  he  said  inqxiir- 
incly. 

"  Since  when  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,  I  don't  just  know.  I'm  sure  he  was  in  the  stable  when 
we  went  out  to  the  opera  last  night ;  but  the  truth  is,  I  took  a  drink 
too  much  while  I  was  waiting,  and  I  can't  swear  whether  he  was  in 
or  no  when  I  stabled  the  carriage  horses  afterwards." 

"  Did  no  one  saddle  him  last  night  or  this  morning.  Mrs.  Ster- 
ling has  gone  into  the  country  for  a  day  or  two,  and  probably  took 
him  with  her.  Where  is  Joseph ?  He  may  know  something  about 
it" 

"  No,  sir ;  he  don't  seem  to  know  anything  about  it.  That's  what's 
st  ange  about  it  all.  I  don't  reckon  the  madam  would  saddle  him 
herself,  would  she,  sir  ?" 

"  Perhaps  so.  Many  ladies  do  such  things,  I  believe.  It  is  all 
right,  James,  I've  no  doubt.  Nothing  else  is  missing,  is  there  ?" 

"  No,  sir.     It's  all  straight  as  a  string  touching  everything  elce." 

"  Very  well."  Lisle  turned  away  with  seeming  indifference,  and  as 
he  passed  down  the  path  he  saw  Joseph  trimming  the  shrubbery. 
The  doubt  in  his  own  mind  was  speedily  settled;  for  calling  Joseph, 
who  came  shambling  forward,  he  said, 

"  Are  you  sure,  Joseph,  that  you  saddled  Mrs.  Sterling's  pony  sc- 
turely?  I  feel  uneasy  about  it,  as  it  is  not  your  usual  business." 

••  1  'an't  saddled  no  pony  for  the  madam  nor  nobody  else.  She 
mu*t  have  done  it  herself,  if  Jim  didn't,  as  he  says  ;  for  the  old  girl 
fiwears  she  didn't,  and  I'll  swear  she  couldn't,  and  she  knowing  no 


THE  HOT73B  BEHIND  TEE  POPLARS.  289 

more  about  a  martingale  than  the  Pope  of  Egypt's  grand  carriage ! 
She  wouldn't  know  the  bit  from  the  crupper,  nor  which  went  tother- 
m<>st.  There  was  queer  doings  in  this  here  premises  last  night, 
Mister  Sterling;  mighty  queer  doings.  I'll  swenr  I  made  the  gates 
all  fast 'ast  night;  yet  this  morning  the  side  gate  was  a-swinging 
wide  open,  and  nary  a  key  to  be  found  to  it." 

"  Some  of  you  servants  went  out  early  this  morning,  probably,  and 
naving  carelessly  left  the  key  in  the  lock,  it  has  been  stolen.  I 
should  think  you  had  been  reproved  sufficiently  for  that  already." 

u  I  think,  sir,  the  madam  rode  out  that  way,  and  wasn't  able  to 
fasten  the  gate  a  horseback.  I  see  plenty  of  tracks  that  way,  not  to 
mention  as  the  verbena  border  is  quite  ruinated.  I'll  swear  the 
Ir.icks  is  Selim's  own  hoofs." 

"Very  likely,"  and  seeing  the  carriage  drive  round,  Lisle  went 
out,  smoking  his  cigar  serenely. 

Once  alone  in  the  carriage,  he  tossed  away  the  cigar  impatiently, 
and  his  heart  swelled  in  bitler  protest  against  what  seemed  Leonore's 
•wanton  cruelty.  If  she  wished  to  go  anywhere,  why  could  she  not 
liavo  gone  openly,  in  broad  day  light,  and  witli  due  regard  for  all 
the  proprieties.  What  need  had  she  to  demean  herself  by  perform- 
ing the  duty  of  hostler,  to  steal  out  of  her  own  grounds  like  a  thief 
in  the  i  ight,  and  thus  to  cause  gossipping  comments  in  the  servants' 
luili !  Gladly  as  he  would  have  gratified  her  every  caprice,  he  felt 
wronged  and  indignant  under  such  conduct.  He  asked  of  her  110 
confidence  which  she  did  not  wish  to  give,  no  restraint  of  her  own 
free  will ;  but  he  protested  against  this  evident  duplicity,  and  want 
of  dignity  toward  herself  and  him.  He  was  displeased  with  his 
very  coachman  for  not  having  come  first  to  him  with  his  inquiries 
conceining  Selim.  Had  he  done  so,  one  word  would  have  hushed 
the  matter  so  far,  as,  however  much  his  pride  might  revolt,  a  silent- 
ly offered  douceur  would  have  taught  the  intelligent  fellow  what  he 
was  desired  to  testily.  Leonore  had  nothing  of  the  'Die  Vernon  ' 
in  her,  and  if  with  her  own  hands  she  had  groomed  her  horse,  it 
was  with  the  one  objoct  of  escaping  unobserved.  Of  whom  and 
what  was  she  afraid?  Vain  queiy  with  which  he  puzzled  his  brain 
a.3  he  rode  down  to  the  office,  where  he  must  resume  his  hypocriti- 
cal manner  and  seem  at  ease,  suffer  as  he  might. 

Edward  and  Julie  were  lingering  on  the  balcony  when  the  car- 
riage returned,  and  in  surprise  he  looked  at  his  watch.  "Ten 
o'clock  !  See,  Julie,  for  how  much  you  are  responsible  !  I  had  an 
appointment  at  half-past  nine,  from  which  you  have  wilfully  be- 


290  THJ3  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

gulled  me.  You  don't  seem  to  realize  that  I  have  become  a  mo^t 
inveterate  pill-roller  and  adruinisterer  of  hideous  compounds  in  gen- 
eral!" 

u  Well,  some  one  is  under  obligations  to  me  for  one  less  mon- 
strosity than  you  intended,  then.  You  won't  recall  half-past  nine  by 
lamenting  it.  Tell  mo  what  made  you  fancy  that  Leonore  was 
unhappy,  and  contemplated  something  desperate,  as  you  said." 

'•Many  small  things  inquisitress.  For  more  than  a  week  past, 
she  has  been  actually  suffering,  and  Lisle  himself  would  have  been 
the  first  to  perceive  it  had  she  not  carefully  concealed  it  from  him 
above  all  others.  I  really  believe  she  fears  him, — why,  Heaven  only 
knows  I  I  never  shall  iorget  how  she  looked  as  we  drove  away  last 
night.  The  very  shadow  of  death  was  on  her  face." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  what  an  imagination !  I  am  sure  she  loves  him 
too  much  to  fear  him,  and  it  would  be  a  mortal  terror  which  should 
overshadow  her  face." 

"  Of  course  it  was  not  terror  ;  it  was  only  dread  and  self-conscious- 
ness. Every  one  knows  that  when  a  woman  fears  a  man,  she 
merely  hoodwinks  him.  Leonore  not  only  loves  Lis'e,  but  she  is  in 
love  with  him,  which  is  more.  I  believe  she  would  have  &uffercd 
deith  rather  than  to  leave  him  as  she  did  last  night,  had  the 
choice  been  left  her." 

"How  strange  it  is  that  he  knows  so  much  and  yet  so  little  of  all 
this !" 

"  Yes,  proud  as  he  is,  and  worshipping  her  as  he  does,  it  must  be  a 
living  death  to  him  !  If  they  were  politely  indifferent  to  each  other, 
like  most  married  couples,  it  wouldn't  so  much  matter.  Were  it  in 
my  case,  I  should  prefer  dying  by  wholesale,  to  a  small  retail  business 
like  this." 

"  How  can  you  jest !" 

"Julie,  what  upon  earth  are  you  two  ladies  made  of,  that  you 
don't  get  into  each  other's  confidence,  if  ever  so  little  ?  She  is  lovely 
and  lovable  as  possible,  and  you  know  what  I  think  of  you.  Yet  you 
live  on  together  like  two  polite  automatons,  when  she,  at  least, 
yearns  for  your  affection,  who. her  or  not  you  care  for  hers." 

Julie  laughed.  "Many  men,  and  som?  women,  might  fall  in  love 
with  the  lady  Leonore  ;  but  hhe  chills  me  heart  and  soul.  Why,  Ed- 
ward,  she  is  as  cold  and  puUeless  as  marble." 

•'How  you  women  always  misjudge  each  other!  She  i-  nei'licr 
proud  nor  cold,  and  were  you  faintly  to  conceive  (he  fiiv  aivl  <*as-;  on. 
she  veils  by  pure  force  of  will,  you  would  wouder  how  she  ever  a>> 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAUS.  291 

quired  such  outward  gentleness  and  dignity.  You  blush,  and  stam- 
mer, and  carry  each,  thought  upon  your  little  pink  and  white  face; 
so  people  give  you  credit  for  sensibility.  She  is  c-.ilm,  and  proud  in 
one  way,  i.  e.,  she  is  self  reliant,  and  would  stand  at  the  stake  with  a 
well-bred  smile  upon  her  lips ;  so  people  say  she  has  no  heart.  Some 
clay  they  will  see  it  bleed,  and  then  I  suppose  they  will  be  convinced 
she  has  one.  It  is  you  who  have  no  heart,  Julie.  In  proof  of  it,  you 
hear  that  poor  bird  cry,  without  one  effort  to  comfort  him." 

"  I  never  cared  for  a  bird  in  my  life.  I  don't  know  how.  Do  you 
fed  him  chicken  and  curry  ?" 

'•  I  will  give  you  a  per«cription  before  I  go.  Here  it  is.  1  oz. 
mixed  seed  (to  be  replenished  when  exhausted) ;  1  leaf  lettuce, 
endive  or  chickweed.  Gravel  and  cuttle-bone  at  discretion ;  2  oz5". 
pure  C'Jd  water  (you  see  it's  all  pure  English),  1-2  pt.  or  so  topid 
ditto  ibr  bath.  Poor  Cardinal!  One  would  think  you  were  nursed 
by  expectant  heirs !  Julie,  if  I  pour  calomel  down  the  wrong  pa- 
tient to-day,  or  order  some  one's  stomach  extracted  instead  of  Miss 
Jones'  neuralgiac  tooth,  you  are  responsible  for  having  detained  me; 
till  I've  forgotten  my  calculations.1' 

Seizing  his  hat  he  rushed  down  the  steps,  waving  her  a  good-bye 
from  the  gate,  and  she  went  back  to  the  lonely  parlor  to  while  away 
the  day  as  best  she  might.  It  passed  uneventfully  save  for  a  visit 
from  Mrs.  Venard,  whom  Lisle  himself  received,  as  he  had  come 
home  earlier  than  usual,  hoping  against  hope  itself  that  Leonore 
might  at  any  moment  return. 

In  answer  to  Mrs.  Venard's  inquiry  for  his  wife,  he  told  her  frankly 
and  unaffectedly  of  her  absence,  and  s-he  who  unJerstcod  all,  uttered 
no  c  'inmcnt  save  what  was  int'  rpre'ed  in  the  glance  she  bent  upon 
him — a  glance  which  saw  nothing  but  the  calm  confidence  and  faith 
in  Leonore  which  he  had  always  exhibited.  The  hand-grasp  which 
accompanied  her  good-bye  might  have  been  more  cordial  than  usual, 
f,nd  his  eyes  certainly  moistened  under  it;  but  the  whole  would  have 
pa-sed  unobserved  by  a  stranger,  and  scarcely  attracted  Julie's  at- 
tention, absorbed  as  she  w;is  in  her  plans  for  the  evening. 

It  s  'eineJ  to  poor  little  Julie  that  her  trouble  and  suspense  with 
regard  to  Louis  were  never  to  reach  an  end.  This  was  the  second 
time  she  found  herself  unaMe  to  keep  her  appointment  with  him  ; 
for,  restless  and.  impatient",  Lisle  wandered  ceaselessly  about,  now  in 
one  part  of  the  grounds,  now  in  another,'  yet  ever  returning  to  the 
parlor  from  which  she  would  be  missed  during  the  first  moment  of 
absence.  Edward,  too,  lingered  closely  beside  her,  with  that  con- 


292  TUB  HOUSE  BEH1XD  THE  FOPLAB3. 

tented  air  which  bespoke  a  whole  evening's  leisure;  and  seeing  that 
there  was  no  hope,  she  took  a  hook  upon  her  knee  and  iu  it  \vro  e 
a  note,  with  as  much  outward  carelessness  as  she  could  assume. 
She  begge  1  Louis  to  go  away  imine  Hately.  as  u  red  him  tha:  to 
meet  him  was  impossible,  but  pledged  her  word  to  become  his  wife 
at  the  end  of  the  year  upon  which  she  had  decided  at  their  last 
meeting.  It  was  now  about  Christ  mas:  at  next  Christmas  time  he 
might,  whatever  befell,  cl-iim  the  fuinl'.ment  of  her  promise ;  but 
meantime  he  must  c  :ase  to  molest  her.  nor  make  one  eftort  so  see 
her  unless  circumstances  should  accidentally  throw  th^m  together. 
Her  letter  seirned  even  to  hersi-lf  cold  an  ;  harsh;  but  she  found 
nothing  else  to  say,  no  kinder  words  in  which  to  say  it ;  an  1  sted- 
ing  unobserved  to  the  sum  me  -house,  she  plac.d  it  where  he  hvJ 
found  the  one  of  the  preceding  evening,  aud  hurried  away. 

She  met  Lisle  just  entering  the  summer-house,  and  scarce  y  know- 
ing what  she  did  in  her  alarm,  she  put  her  hand  rpou  his  aim  and 
drew  him  hastily  away. 

bent  an  astonished  look  upon  her,  and  she  exclaimed, 

"  Oh,  Lisle,  don't  go  in  there.  The  shadows  are  invested  by  hob- 
goblins !  Come  back  the  parlor,  and  I  will  sing  to  you." 

'*  I  am  in  no  mood  for  music,  Julie.  I  »m  fit  company  only  f  ^r 
hobg  .bl;n*.  Let  us  rather  come  in  and  keep  them  company.  Why 
Julie,  how  restless  you  are.  Were  you  nally  frightened  in  there?" 

"  Oh.  no.  Don't  suppose  it.  Certainly  \ve  will  go  in  :f  you  wi»h  ; 
Lut  it  seems  to  me  the  wind  is  b  owing  up  cold,"  she  replied  with 
an  effort. 

"  So  it  is.  Julie,  and  you  will  take  a  coM.  Let  us  go  back  to  the 
house.  I  am  ns'iess  r.s  a  condemned  soul,  to-night." 

They  entered  the  parlor  together,  and  having  opened  the  pinno 
l-->r  luT,  Lisle  t:;rew  him  elf  at  full  length  u(,on  a  so.'a,  and,  gradu  .lly 
calmed  by  her  >weet  voice  as  she  sang  song  after  song,  sank  | 
i  ;t  >  a  s\v  et  an  1  restful  sleep. 

So  the  evenincr  parsed  away,  and  with  ahenrt  at  rest,  nnd  mind 
iva-sured  by  the  decision  she  had  foun  1  ate  to 

Julie  fe'.t ;  happier  than  she  had  dm;-  for  <1  >ys  despite  the 
disappointment  of  not;   m.-etincr  hi'.n  once  more  belore  so  long  a 
separa'ion.     She  doub:ed  not  that  the  fiat  she  had  thu>  pronounced 
woul  1  be  received  with  more  displeasure  than  resign  .tion  : 
mentally  querying  if  engagement  bj  not  the  vanishing  point  to  all 
r  .->;;!  happiness  in  cou:t>hip,  she  enjoyed  the  S'.-nse  of  fieedom  . 
he;-  for  one  whole  year  in  prospective,  resolving  to  let  the  futuro 


THIS   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

look  out  for  itself.  She  refused  to  admit  to  herself  that  her  engn^c- 
ment  no  1  ;nger  afforded  her  the  happiness  it  had  done  at  first,  and 
attributed  her  want  of  conten1  incut  solely  to  the  circumstances  which 
surrounded  her.  She  was  not  one  who  closely  analyzed  every  p:is> 
ing  emotion  which  affected  her;  indeed,  she  never  thought  of  it  ;it 
all  when  she  could  avoid  it ;  and,  pre-occupied  as  she  was  by  the 
present  situation  of  the  little  f  unily,  she  devoted  herself  to  making 
Lisle  forget  the  trouble  that  oppressed  him,  and  to  making  his  home 
as  pLasant  as  possible  in  the  absence  of  his  wife. 

Thus  passed  three  days  daring  which  not  one  word  was  heard  of 
Leonore,  and  Lisle's  brow  grew  gloomier  and  more  stern  with  every 
passing  hour.  Whereas  at  first  heh-id  seemed  merely  grieved  and 
anxious,  he  was  now  growing  angry,  not  with  that  violent  passion, 
which  soon  burns  itself  out,  or  dies  by  explosion,  but  a  deeper,  more 
enduring  feeling  of  real  wrong  undeservedly  endured,  against  which 
the  very  soul  rebels  in  bitter  protest. 

The  fourth  day  of  tlrs  mysierious  absence  dawned,  and  silent  and 
gloomy  as  he  was  under  it  now,  Lisle  left  his  room  at  the  usual 
breakfast  hour,  till  which  signal  lie  was  always  invisible.  Face  to 
face  on  the  upper  landing  he  met  Leonore,  who,  calm  and  serene  in 
her  morning  wrapper,  was  descending  to  join  the  family  at  table. 
She  advanced  toward  him  with  a  bright  smile  and  open  arms ;  but 
coolly  bidding  her  "  good  morning,"  he  bowed  and  stepped  aside  to 
allow  her  to  descend  before  him. 

The  color  fled  from  her  very  lips,  and  she  grasped  the  balustrade 
for  support  under  the  giddiness  that  overwhelmed  her.  As  she  did 
so,  Edward's  dor>r  opened  upon  them.  Besolutely  conquering  her 
emotion,  she  turned  and  extended  her  hand  toward  him.  He 
clasped  it  warmly,  and  involuntarily  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  Her 
own  quivered  under  the  affectionate  caress,  and  tears  rushed  to  her 
eyes  as  she  followed  Lisle  down  the  stair-case. 

All  that  was  chivalrous  and  sympathetic  in  Edward's  heart  rose 
to  the  surface;  and  a?  he  passed  Lisle  in  the  doorway  he  said  with 
mingled  anger  and  sorrow, 

"  Lisle,  for  God's  sake  don't  be  a  brute !" 

He  seemed  less  than  om  in  anything  like  human  sympathy,  as 
without  raising  his  eyes  to  his  wife's  plaintive  face,  he  with  cold 
dignity  drew  back  her  chair,  and  seated  her  at  her  accustome  I 
place,  with  a  courtesy  that  was  stinging  in  its  very  indifference. 
She  pressed  her  hand  to  her  eyes,  but  instantaneously  withdrew  it 
aa  if  determined  to  betray  not.ring  more  of  the  pain  she  endured  ; 


29-i  TIIE  HOUS3  BEUI.VD  TUB  POPLARS. 

and  as  if  most  opportunely  impressed,  Julie  at  that  moment  came 
quickly  into  the  room,  tying  the  t  issels  of  her  wrapper  as  sue  ad- 
vanced, in  a  m;inifcst  effort  to  appear  "  on  time,"  as  she  did  during 
Leonore's  absence.  She  was  h:ilf-way  across  the  room,  before  look- 
ing up,  she  saw  Leonore,  who  with  apprehensive  air  waited  for  her 
greeting.  "With  one  bound  she  was  beside  her,  and  throwing  her 
arms  around  her  neck  she  kissed  her  again  and  again  amid  broken 
ejaculations  of  joy  at  her  return. 

The  distance  whicli  had  heretofore  separated  them,  was  spanned 
at  a  breath  under  this  joyful  surprise,  and  happy  despite  the  pain 
she  felt  under  Lisle's  displeasure,  Leonore's  eyes  beamed  softly  upon 
the  pretty  blonde,  who,  at  last  seated  with  due  decorum,  chatted 
most  volubly  despite  the  lowering  clouds  which  kept  Lisla  cold  and 
silent.  Provoked  with  him  at  last  she  exclaimed  impulsively, 

"  I  declare  Lisle  !  Your  welcome  must  quite  enrapture  your  wife. 
I  never  saw  so  perfect  a  picture  of  gladness  and  content !" 

Lisle  dismissed  the  attendant,  and  then  without  replying  to  Julie's 
taunt,  he  asked  Leonore, 

"  At  what  hour  did  you  arrive  ?" 
"  It  was  about  daylight,  Lisle." 

"  How  did  you  get  in  without  ringing  ?  I  have  heard  no  bell,  and 
I  was  awake  lon^  before  then." 

"I  have  a  key  of  my  own,  as  you  have,"  she  replied  quietly. 
"I  wish,  then,  that  you  would  make  a  better  use  of  it  than  leav- 
ing the  gates  open  all  night  wlien  they  are  supposed  to  be  shut. 
You  furnished  entertainment  for  a  line  flock  of  go. its  the  night  you 
left  the  garden  gate  swinging,  as  your  ruined  borders  can  testify." 

"But  my  key  unlocks  the  front  gate.  I  never  leitthe  other  open, 
for  I  never  go  near  it." 

"  At  least  Selim  did,  for  I  saw  the  print  of  his  hoofs,  myself.  Don't 
stoop  to  so  shallow  an  evasion." 

" '  Evasion,'  Lisle !  what  do  you  mean  ?  "What  have  Sclira'a 
hoofi  to  do  with  the  open  gate,  or  I  with  either  ?  Explain  your- 
self.'' 

"  Thank  you,  I  think  that  would  be  quite  unnecessary,  even  had  I 
finished  my  breakfast.  I  shall  hear  next  th:it  you  never  rule  a 
hoise  called  Seliin;  that  you  haven't  been  outside  the  yard  for  a 
month ;  and  various  other  surprising  items.  Surprises  arc  not 
good  for  the  digestion,  and  I  decline  them." 

Edward  pressed  his  lips  firmly  together,  and  turned  upon  Lislo 
as  if  to  addresa  him  reproachfully ;  but  a  supplicating  look  from 


THE  HOUSB  BEHIND  THE  POPLAiW.  295 

Ueonore  arrested  him,  and  deferentially  bowing,  he  lighted  his  cigar 
and  went  out. 

Julie  sat  one  moment  in  mute  surprise  at  Lisle'shumor,  and  then 
rising,  she  said  in  a  distress  that  was  half  'comical,  despite  its 
sincerity, 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  can't  stand  this !  Do  scold,  quarrel,  or  anything  elsa 
quite  satisfactory  to  yourselves  and  each  other,  so  that  you  quickly 
end  it  all." 

Left  to  themselves,  the  two  remained  in  perfect  silence,  which 
Lisle,  at  least,  showed  no  intention  to  break.  Upon  the  contrary, 
he  walked  out  into  the  hall,  and  reaching  his  hat  Iron  the  rack. 
prepared  to  go  out.  Leonore  felt  that  she  cou'd  not  thus  see  him 
leave  her  for  the  day,  and  following  him  she  laid  her  haud  upon 
his  arm,  and  said  very  gently, 

'•Lislf,  won't  you  come  up  to  our  room  a  littlo  while  before  you 
go  out  ?" 

"  Certain!/,  whenever  you  feel  inclined  to  make  the  explanation 
which  you  must  feel  is  due  me.  Perhaps  you  had  better  wait  till 
you  recover  from  your  fatigue." 

"  Lisle,  how  can  I  rest  while  this  cruel  coldness  kills  me  !" 
/'Very  well,"  andhe  followed  her  up  stairs  with  the  same  unyield- 
ing manner. 

Once  in  the  privacy  of  their  own  room,  the  restraint  she  had  im- 
posed upon  heiself  gave  way,  and  throwing  herself  impulsively  upon 
his  breast,  she  sobbed, 

''  Oh,  Lisle,'  Lisle,  what  have  I  done,  that  you  treat  me  so  coldly  !" 

Involuntarily  he  pressed  her  head  more  closely  upon  his  breast ; 
but  his  voice  war?  cool  and  reproving  a?  he  said, 

"  That  is  a  strange  question,  Leonore !" 

"  I  do  not  think  so.  As  I  am  now  and  must  continue  to  be,  you 
married  me,  in  spits  of  my  warnings.  Nothing  new  has  come  be- 
tween ua.  Of  your  own  free  will  you  guaranteed  me  the  perfect  lib- 
erty of  action  which  is  my  only  cause  of  offence  now.  I  told  you 
that  you  would  rind  yourself  unable  to  endure  it." 

"  No,  I  am  not.  1  am  as  far,  now,  from  wishing  to  restrain  you,  ai 
I  ever  was.  But,  as  your  husband,  I  have  the  right  to  protest 
against  your  needlessly  humiliating  me  and  giving  occasion  for  gossip 
that  might  be  so  easily  avoided.  Ask  yourself  if  the  manner  in  which 
you  left  your  homo  and  one  who  would  die  to  serve  you,  was  kind 
and  co^iderate,  not  to  say  dignified.  Not  content  with  leaving 
without  one  word  of  a  lieu,  nor  so  mucr  as  a  wr.tten  line  to  reassuro 


290  THE  HOUSE  BElIIXi)  X1IE  POPLAU3. 

me,  you  carefully  oonccaled  your  intentions  till  such  an  hour  as  you 
could,  unseen,  ste;il  into  the  filthy  stablea  and  with  your  own  ded- 
cate  hands  perform  the  service  of  a  common  hostler!  I  thought, 
late  that  night,  that  I  heard  the  footsteps  of  a  horse  along  the  walk ; 
but  I  dismissed  the  idea,  for  how  could  I  believe  that  my  wife  thus 
lurked  around  in  darkness,  waiting  till  that  mysterious  hour  to  leave 
a  home  of  which  she  is  undisputed  mistress  ?  Oh,  Leonore,  that  is 
the  severest  sting  of  all !" 

Sho  raised  her  face  and  looked  into  his  own  in  a  mute  surprise 
quite  powerless  to  check  his  words  which  flowed  on  dispassionately. 

"I  can  understand,  Leonore,  that  not  wishing  me  to  know  tho 
precise  hour  of  your  departure,  you  led  me  to  think  that  it  had  taken 
place  win  e  I  was  at  the  opera  which  you  declined  to  attend  upon  tho 
score  of  illness,  and  that  having  thus  deceived  me,  you  would  leave 
no  clue  to  the  real  truth,  and  so  saddled  Selim  and  departed  as 
secretly  as  possible.  Grieved  as  I  was  at  your  cruel  lack  of  consid- 
eration for  me  then,  what  do  you  think  my  feelings  would  havu 
been  could  I  have  realized  the  whole  truth  as  I  knew  it  afterwards  1'' 
•*'Oh,  Lisle,  is  it  possible  that  you  accuse  me  of  all  this?'' 

"I  do  not  accuse,  I  simply  recount.'' 

"  Oh,  you  are  wrong,  all  wrong.     I  am  not  so  guilty. 

"I  can  well  believe,  Leonore,  that  all  this  sounds  fir  more  hars'ity 
in  -the  cool  narration,  than  it  seemed  to  you  while  acting  under  what 
I  know  was  strong  excitement.  See,  now,  how  easily  all  might  hive 
been  arranged  as  you  wished.  Had  you  but  told  me  tint  you  wished 
to  go  upon  this  errand,  whatever  it  was,you  could  have  gone  equally 
as  well  in  broad  daylight,  and  my  knowledge  and  sanction  of  it 
would  have  redeemed  it  of  even  eccentricity.  Your  air  of  mystery, 
and  shallow  effort  at  concealment,  are  the  worst  features  in  tho 
whole  programme,  and  yoj  cannot  wonder  that  I  am  both  wounded 
and  offended.  Believe  me,  Leonore,  it  was  an  insult  I  do  not  de- 
serve, and  cannot  forget." 

She  had  found  words  now,  iu  which  to  set  hers  >lf  right,  and  with 
an  indignant  gesture  she  closed  his  lips,  and  commenced, 

"Of  all  human  injustice,  this  is  the  worst!  Tried,  convicted  and 
sentenced,  as  I  am,  I  will  protest  against  it.  I  did  not  lurk  around  in 
darkness,  as  you  cho  )se  to  express  it,  after  having  led  you  to  sup- 
pose I  had  already  gone.  I  did  not  go  to  the  stable  for  Sclim,  n.i  i 
had  no  occasioa  for  him,  and  eccentric  as  I  may  be  I  did  not  pr  ji  r 
a  night  in  the  saddle  to  a  few  hours  journey  by  rail.  All  your  tau  ii '  * 
of  swinging  gates  and  ruined  borders  are  as  undcscrve  1  ns  tr' vi  • ; 


THE   Uo^oU  BKiii:;D   THE   POPLARS.  297 

for  I  walked  to  the  depot  to  meet  ,  he  ten  o'clock  train,  going  out  by 
the  front  gate  which  I  locked  after  me.  Even  then  I  was  not  alone ; 
so  no  impropriety  was  committed  which  coulJ  shock  even  your  fas- 
tidious taste !" 

"  Who  went  witli  you,  Leonore  ?" 

She  did  not  reply,  and  the  color  deepened  and  deepened  in  Jier 
cheek,  under  the  injustice  she  resented. 

"  Leonore,  Avho  went  with  yon  even  so  far  as  the  depot  ?  I  want 
to  know  upon  whom  my  wife  bestows  the  confidence  she  denies  to 
me." 

"You  have  no  right  to  ask  me,  but  as  you  may  wish  witnesses  to 
my  truthfulness,  I  tell  you.  My  maid  Margiret  accompanied  me, 
and  returned  when  the  train  left.  I  imagine  that  she  enjoys  little 
confidence  you  would  care  to  possess." 

He  looked  at  her  in  utter  confusion.  He  could  not  disbelieve 
her. 

"  What,  then,  have  you  done  with  Selim?"  he  asked. 

"I?  Nothing.  What  should  I  have  done  with  him,  though  he 
was  my  own  it  anything  belonging  to  a  wife  be  truly  her  own." 

A  sudd  n  suspicion  entered  his  mind ;  a  suspicion  more  unjust 
and  humiliating  to  her  than  any  that  had  preceded  it.  It  might 
have  been  aroused  by  the  bitter,  taunting  manner  that  so  changed 
her  from  all  he  had  ever  known  her ;  but  he  gave  it  cxpressio.i  at 
once. 

"Leonore,  do  you  receive  less  money  than  you  need  ?  If  so,  tell 
me.  Name  any  amount  yearly  or  quarterly.  It  is  yours  unques- 
tioned." 

"  No,  my  salary  is  quite  enough.  You  pay  it  very  punctually, 
and  are  mare  than  generous  beside.  You  are  liberal  with  your 
money,  Lisle;  I  give  you  due  credit  for  that." 

"So  I  am  '  liberal '  with  you,  am  I?  'Liberal'  and  '  generous  ;' 
strange  words  for  a  wife  to  speak  to  her  husband!  Henceforth, 
Leonore,  you  shall  have  a  bank  account  of  your  own.  When  my 
wife  accepts  money  from  me  as  an  offering  of  generosity,  and  liber- 
fil'ty,  she  must  feel  herself  a  pensioner  indeed!  I  see  now  how  it 
is  ;  you  h  ive  need:  d  more  than  your  pride  permitted  you  to  ask  of 
my  generosity,  Sclim  was  your  own,  you  had  a  right  to  make  the 
sacrifice,  and  you  sold  him.  The  next  time  you  wish  to  dispose  of 
any  of  your  personal  property,  let  me  be  the  purchaser.  I  wilt  be 
as  liberal  in  my  deal  with  you,  as  you  esteem  me  in  my  benefactions." 

She  had  resented  his  injustice,  but  his  sarcasm  overpowered  her. 


298  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAR8. 

and  sinking  upon  a  chair  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  only 
ejaculating, 

"  I  have  done  nothing  of  the  kind  1  I  tell  you  I  know  nothing 
whatever  of  Selim,  and  I  care  less." 

''  Is  thia  true  ?  Have  you  no  clue  to  his  disappearance,  which 
dati-s  from  the  night  of  your  own  temporary  "absence  ?*' 

"I  see,  what  you  begin  to,  Lisle.  Since  it  was  not  I  who  carried 
him  off,  some  one  else  has  done  so.  He  is  lost,  stolen." 

"  I  never  thought  of  this,"  he  said,  coming  behind  her  nnd 
smooth  ng  her  head  with  a  gentle  touch.  She  looked  up  earnestly. 

"  I  tell  you  some  one  has  stolen  him  1  Did  you  not  tell  me  that 
you  heard  his  footsteps  late  at  night  along  the  path,  that  you  saw 
his  tracks  next  morning  near  the  gate,  found  wide  open  ?  Through 
that  gateway  Selim  was  ridden  out  by  some  one  who  ingeniously 
cho-e  that  opportunity,  that  he  might  be  well  gotten  away  before 
you  should  learn  that  he  was  not  with  me." 

"Then  that  some  one  must  have  been  either  a^ conjurer  or  ppy. 
Leonore,  I  am  much  mistaken  it  Jo3eph  doesn't  know  more  of  this 
than  you  or  I.  It  he  is  guilty  he  sh  ill  pay  the  penalty,  and  I  warn 
you  not  to  attempt  to  shield  him,  as  you  often  do.  He  is  a  rascal 
born  and  bred,  and  your  interest  in  him  is  something  that  pas  eg 
my  comprehension." 

As  he  spoke  he  rang  the  bell,  and  Margaret,  whose  especial  duty 
it  was  to  answer  it,  immediately  appeared. 

"  Send  Joseph  here  directly,"  was  the  brief  command  Lisle  gave 
as  he  paced  the  floor  thoughtfully  Avithout  raising  his  eyes. 

Leonore's  heart  beat  suffocatingly  as  she  realized  all  that  might 
develop  itself  in  this  interview.  She  knew  who  ha  1  been  in  the 
grounds  that  eventful  evening,  and  it  \vas  quite  possible  that  Joseph 
knew  as  well,  prying  and  curious  as  he  was.  Might  he  not,  if 
sorely  pressed,  thus  screen  himself  under  the  mantle  of  another,  and 
part  cularly  of  that  other  who  could  utter  no  defence,  while  naturally 
an  object  of  suspicion  and  dislike  to  Lisle,  who  little  dreamed  that 
interest  could  have  brought  him  there.  Involuntarily  she  glanced 
down  at  the  hand  she  had  in  her  anger  bruised  against  the  lattice, 
and  with  a  gesture  of  loathing  she  buried  it  from  sight  among  the 
folds  of  her  dress. 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  299 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

SOME  time  elapsed  before  Joseph  obeyed  the  summons,  and  Lisle 
was  about  to  repeat  it,  when  he  appeared  in  the  door-way,  wiping 
his  mouth  with  the  back  of  his  hand  upon  which  remained  sundry 
fragments  of  the  breakfast  he  had  waited  to  finish  quite  at  his 
leisure. 

In  one  hand  he  carried  the  battered  hat  of  playful  angles,  without 
which  he  was  never  fully  equipped,  and  he  looked  unusually  shabby 
from  his  faded  coat  to  his  self-styled  "  tropical  boots,"  from  which, 
with  their  customary  eccentricity,  his  feet  had  gradually  retreated 
and  taken  up  lodgings  in  the  area,  to  the  utter  desertion  and  preju- 
dice of  the  wrinkled  front.  They  were  twin  brothers  to  divers  pairs 
which  had  preceded  them,  and  doomed  to  the  same  humiliating 
end.  Lislp's  provocation  against  him  increased  as  he  inventoried 
all  this  at  silent  leisure,  during  which  Joseph  seemed  quite  uncon- 
scious of  anything  except  the  battered  chapeau  which  he  turned  and 
twisted  into  fantastic  shapes  fi  om  which  it  emerged  more  mellow 
and  dejected  than  before.  Lisle's  voice  aroused  him. 

"  Joseph,  have  you  uo  befter  clothes  than  these,  that  you  are  so 
shabby  ?" 

"  Well,  yes,  sir.  There's  my  Sunday-go-to-meeting  ones  as  is  bet- 
ter, though  nothing  to  brag  on." 

"  Put  them  on,  and  give  these  to  the  beggars,  if  you  can  find  ono 
who  won't  feel  insulted  by  the  donation.  You  are  not  fit  to  bo 
seen  as  the  servant  of  a  gentleman." 

"  I  was  a-asking  of  myself  only  this  morning,  if  it  was  possiblo 
these  here  duds  was  a  quite  done  over;  but  says  I  to  myself,  'Joe, 
you're  a  poor  cuss  of  a  feller,  and  don't  you  say  anything  is  done 
over,  till  you're  toM  it.  There's  them  whose  business  it  is  to  notica 
it,  and  they'll  tell  you.'  I  han't  no  sort  of  gift  for  knowing  when 
things  is  a  worn  out.  I'm  oblecged  to  you  for  telling  me,"  and  ho 
turned  to  go,  as  if  satisfied  that  the  colloquy  was  at  an  end. 

"  Stay,  Joseph ;  it  was  not  for  this  that  I  sent  for  you.     Do  you 


300  THE   HOUSE   B£IIIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

remember  the  evening  Mrs.  Sterling  went  away  upon  the  visit  from 
»vhich  she  has  just  returned  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  was  on  a  Friday.     I  can  tell  that  by  two  or  three 
thing  I  made  a  note  on  at  the  time." 
"  What  were  they  ?" 

"Well,  you  all  went  to  the  opry,  and  left -the  madam  at  home  all 
alone.  It  was  a  warm  night  though  the  wind  blowed  fresh,  and  I 
see  her  all  a-fluttering  in  the  gate  where  she  stood  to  see  you  drive 
off,  as  white  as  a  sheet." 

"  Well,  whit  happened  after  that  ?" 

"I  had  took  a  note  that  for  a  good  smart  of  time  the  madam  had 
been  in  a  queer  way,  and  I  had  said  to  the  old  girl,  said  I,  '  old 
lady,  things  is  a-working.  The  madam  has  something  on  her 
mind  '— " 

"  Why  do  you  harp  upon  '  the  madam '  so  persistently  ?  I  want 
to  know  what  lock  place  around  the  grounds  that  night;  whether 
you  noticed  any  one  lurking  near,  whether  you  locked  the  gates  as 
usual,  and  who  went  out  or  came  in  aft  .r  the  usual  hour." 

"  I  locked  all  up  earlier 'n  usual  that  night,  cause  I  wanted  to  go 
out ;  but  I  didn't  go,  and  about  nine  o'clock  I  thought  I  heered. 
something  out  in  the  garden,  and  out  I  went  to  look  after  it.  I 
made  sure  I  see  some  one  go  into  the  summer-house,  and  I  just  put 
softly  along  after  it." 

"  Who  was  it,  Joseph  ?    Goon." 

"  Yes,  sir,  being  as  you  tell  me  to.  It  wa3  only  the  madam  her- 
self, then,  looking  as  white  as  a  ghost,  and  just  as  she  got  to  the 
door  she  gave  a  little  screech  like  she'd  met  a  twin  ghost." 

Lisle  looked  at  Leonore,  who  sat  motionless,  as  white  and  still  as 
the  dead.  In  alarm  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  feeling 
the  shudder  which  stole  over  her,  he  recalled  at  once  the  alarm 
Julie  had  manifested  the  succeeding  evening  when  she  had  avowed 
that  the  place  was  infested  with  goblins.  Curious  and  inteiested, 
he  asked  with  a  half  incre  lulous  smile, 

"  What  did  you  see,  Leonore  ?    Was  it  really  a  ghost  ?" 
She  made  au  effort  to  r^ply,  but  the  white  lips  only  trem!  led,  and 
were  silent ;  and  fearing  that  her  secret  woul  1  escape  her  and  thus 
rob  him  of  his  importance  as  its  sole  possessor,  Joseph  hastened  to 
reply  for  her. 

"  It  wasn't  no  ghost  at  all,  sir.  The  wind  made  queer  shadows, 
and  tossed  the  vines  about,  and  one  of  'eni  struck  her  in  the  face.  I 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  301 

seen  it  all,  nnd  being  as  it  wasn't  my  business  to  say  a  word,  I  didn't 
and  kinder  shambled  off  out  of  sight." 

"  I  hope  you  showed  your  good  sense  by  leaving  entirely." 

"  Why,  no,  I  may  say  I  didn't.  I  felt  such  a  hankering  to  know 
what  possessed  the  madam,  that  I  couldn't  leave  my  absence  behind 
me,  and  I  kept  an  eye  on  her  from  that  time  out.  Says  I,  there's  no 
harm  in  finding  out  all  a  feller  can  in  this  world,  and  so  I  sot  down 
under  the  bushes  and  fell  a-thinkin^.'' 

''You  deserve  a  caning  for  you  impertinence,  sir.  Who  employs 
you  to  watch  and  spy  upon  your  mistress." 

"  Not  you,  sir  ;  I  says  that,  and  I  says  it  honest.  I  didn't  make 
very  smart  for  all  my  watching,  though,  for  after  maybe  a  hour, 
maybe  less,  I  only  sue  the  madam  come  out  and  stalk  along  to  the 
house  right  through  the  wet  grass,  and  as  bareheaded  as  she  was 
born,  with  all  her  hair  a-dangling  down  her  back,  and  the  bushes  a- 
catching  at  it  like  mad  !  I  sot  a  wondering  what  it  all  meant, 
when  after  a  bit  I  see  her  come  out  onto  the  gallery  along  with 
maid  Margeret,  and  away  they  went  together,  the  madun  locking 
the  gate  after  'em  with  a  key  of  her  own ;  a.\d  I  was  that  astonished 
at  it  all,  that  I  went  into  the  house,  and  says  I  to  the  old  girl,  *  old 
lady,  things  as  was  a-working  is  worked.'  All  I  see  after  that,  was 
maid  Margaret  come  back  and  rung  at  the  side  gate  like  nothing 
ha  I  happened  only  a  female  run  out.  When  I  went  up  to  bed,  I 
Leered  her  a-snoring  like  mad,  and  says  I,  it's  all  right  with  tho 
madam  wherever  she  is,  or  maid  Margaret  couldn't  fetch  such  a 
s  tore  as  that." 

.     "  And  you  heard  nothing  during  the  night ;  you  have  no  suspicion 
of  how  Seiim  was  gotten  away,  nor  who  took  him?" 

"Not  I,  sir,  though  I  mostly  has  my  eyes  open.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  madam  was  gone,  and  Selim  was  gone,  and  you  said  she'd 
likely  saddled  him  herself  and  took  him  into  the  country.  I  couldn't 
swear  she  didn't,  though  I  didn't  see  anything  of  it;  for  when  people 
begin  to  act  queer,  they  go  on  doing  no  end  of  queer  things." 

''Joseph,  it  you  think  this  long,  wordy  harangue  has  impfaed 
upon  m  •,  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  more  than  ever  convinced  tnat 
you  know  wh  it  has  become  of  Selim,  and  I've  a  mind  to  have  you 
un-ested  upon  suspicion,  without  farther  parley.  1  give  you  just 
thr>:6  days  to  return  him,  '  and  no  questions  askeJ,'  or  to  take  the 
chance  of  your  being  proved  the  thief." 

"  And  won't  you  offer  a  reward,  sir?  something  handsome,  being 
as  it  was  the  madam's  saddle  horse  by  which  she  sot  a  store/' 


302  THE  HOUSE  BEHIXD   i'SE 

'•  Xot  a  dollar's  rewa;  d,  to  you,  sir.     I  -won't  offer  you  a  premium 
for  rascality.     Now  go,  and  remember  what  I  tell  you.    Three  days" 

Lis'e  paced  the  floor  slpwly  and  gravely  wheu  Joseph  went  out, 
and  at  leng  h  snid  with  some  bitterness, 

"  You  see  now,  Leonore,  how  you  incur  the  criticism,  and  p:que 
the  curiosity  of  your  own  servants !  The  m  >inent  a  woman  ready 
has  a  mystery  in  her  life,  she  sets  herself  to  call  everybody's  atten- 
tion to  the  fact.  She  is  like  a  weak-minded  old  hen,  who.  having 
carefully  hidden  her  nL'st,  makes  such  a  cackling  over  it  every  time 
she  drops  an  a  klitional  egg,  that  one  can  find  it  in  the  dark  ! ' 
.  The  uncomplimentary  comparison  fell  dead  upon  her  ear.  She  was 
abstracted,  lost,  in  the  realization  that  she  was  more  than  ever  in 
Joseph's  power  by  his  knowledge  of  th-it  fatal  encounter  upon  the 
very  night  of  Selim's  abduction.  Should  Lis  e  attempt  to  prosecute 
him,  he  would  threaten  her  at  once  with  a  revelation  of  what  he  had 
as  yet  concealed,  and  den  mncs  Louis  as  the  thief.  She  would  not , 
for  a  thousand  Seliins  have  Louis'  presence  in  the  grounds  suspect- 
ed, even  could  he  establish  his  innocence  of  the  charge.  Lisle  woul<  I 
never  believe  that  their  interview  wns  purely  accidental,  should  the 
revelations  she  dreaded  be  made.  The  whole  truth  would  kill  her, 
less  than  that  compromise  her  forever.  All  depended  upon  Joseph's 
silence,  which  she  inu~t  purchase  at  any  price.  She  had  endured  too 
much  to  see  a!l  imperilled  now;  anything  was  preferable  to  thi% 
Li<le  was  resolute,  and  obstinate  always  when  so.  It  was  useless  to 
appeal  to  him  upon  any  pretext;  beside,  he  had  warned  her  not  (o 
attempt  it.  There  remained,  then,  nothing  but  to  cast  aside  the  frail 
barrier  she  had  been  able  to  interpose  between  Joseph  and  her  own 
dignity,  and  to  purchase  his  aid  and  silence  upon  his  own  terms.  It 
was  not  marvellous  that  a  few  sarcastic  comments  foil  pointless  upon 
her  ear.  H-T  own  thoughts  were  far  more  bitter  than  another's 
words  could  be. 

Dared  she  but  confess  all  to  her  husband !  She  would  give  life  i1- 
self  to  do  so.  But  that  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  The  consequent  3 
of  such  a  confession  to  one  so  inflexible  ns  Lisle,  were  too  terrible  to 
think  of.  Moreover,  she  had  no  right  to  make  it,  now.  Having 
married  him  without  this  revelation  passing  her  lips,  she  was  moral- 
ly bound  to  spare  him  the  misery  it  would  now  inn-cl: — a  miser/ 
tenfold  in  bitterness  since  it  would  now  be  inflicted  by  his  r 
stead  of  by  a  woman  whom  he  might  be  at  liberty  to  wed,  or  leavj 
forever,  ns  he  should  decide,  knowing  all. 

It  was  worse  than  useless    now,  to  deplore  the    weakn 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLABS.  303 

which  she  had  yielded  in  marrying  him.  If  her  lot  were  filled  with 
bitterness  instead  of  tho  unmixed  happiness  for  which  she  had 
Loped,  she  would  endure  it  patiently  ;  and  in  the  resolution  she  let 
her  head  sink  upon  her  breast  in  an  attitude  that  was  fall  of  uncon- 
scious resignation  and  humility. 

"  Poor  Leonore  ! ' 

The  wo,  ds  fell  upon  her  heart  rather  than  upon  her  ear,  and  she 
looked  up  in  surprise  and  gratitude. 

During  the  five  minutes  lie  had  watched  her,  Lisle's  heart  had 
bled  with  pity  for  her.  The  expression  of  utter  wretchedness  and 
hopelessness  upon  her  face  had  touched  him  as  no  other  appeal 
could  have  done,  and  he  yulded  unconditionally.  He  reflected  that 
this  was  the  wife  he  had  won  and  wedded  against  her  own  consent, 
despite  hor  struggles  and  warning-},  utterly  refusing  to  be  content 
with  the  friendship  she  had  offered  him.  lie  had  honestly  meant 
to  make  her  happy.  Looking  at  her  now,  could  he  think  h'i  had 
succeeded  in  doing  so  ?  His  heart  reproached  him  bitterly ,  and 
opening  his  arms  he  had  exclaimed,  "  Poor  Leouore !" 

She  sprang  ir.to  his  embrace,  and  sob  after  sob  heaved  her  bosom. 
Struck  with  remorse,  he  murmured  words  of  love  and  tenderness, 
while  inwardly  cursing  himself  for  all  that  was  harsh,  and  resolving 
never  again,  whatever  the  provocation,  to  address  her  one  reproach- 
ful word. 

She  was  indeed  innocent  of  all  that  had  vexed  him  most — he 
knew  it  now — and  convinced  of  that,  it  really  seemed  that  she  was 
guiltles?  of  all  cause  of  oft'ence.  It  was  no  longer  he  who  had  any- 
thing to  forgive,  it  was  she ;  and  he  told  her  so  with  a  generous 
abandonment  of  pride  that  proved  how  dear  the  reconciliation  was 
to  him. 

Thus  at  peace  with  her  husband,  Leonore  felt  strong  to  battle 
with  all  else,  even  the  invincible  Joseph,  who  would  not  scruple  to 
use  any  power  he  possessed  for  the  advancement  of  hn  own  in- 
terests. 

It  weighed  like  an  incumbus  over  her,  and  resolving  to  end  sus- 
pense, she  improved  the  earliest  possible  moment  to  stroll  into  the 
yard,  and  by  degrees  approach  him  at  his  work,  sure  that  he  wou'tl 
be  the  first  to  speak,  and  so  give  her  the  requisite  clue  without  h  T 
appearing  (o  seek  it.  But  she  was  not  prepared  for  th  j  vein  of  con- 
fidence and  self-satisfied  cunning  with  which  he  abruptly  accosted 
lier,  without  even  tho  preliminary  ceremony  of  a  bow. 


304  THE  HOUSE   BEUI.VD   THE   POPLARS. 

"Well;  didn't  I  head  liim  Off  without  his  getting  mucli  satisfac- 
tion, for  all  his  sharpness  ?" 

A  shudder  of  di-gust  stole  over  her  at  the  thought  of  a  secret  un« 
derstandiiig  with  this  untaught  boor,  and  with  an  effort  suppressing 
her  indignation  at  his  presumption,  she  asked  coolly, 

"Do  you  really  fincy,  that  Mr.  Sterling  his  let  you  off  so  easily? 
I  assure  you  he  is  quite  in  earnest,  and  if  Selim  is  not  restored,  he  will 
carry  out  the  threat  he  made  you." 

'•If  it  comes  to  that,  ma'aui,  you  know  tliere  is  them  as  will  bo 
worse  off  than  Joe  Perkins." 

«« Who,  Joseph  ?" 

"  Well,  him  as  might  have  took  the  horse,  which  you  seen  in  the 
summer-lions?,  yoursjif,  if  so  be  your  testify  should  be  called  for. 
Do  you  think  I  don't  know  who  was  along  with  you  that  evening, 
because  I  didn't  tell  r  to  the  maste:-  ?  Tliere  is  them  that  thinks 
Joe  Perkins  a  fool,  and  likes  to  put  on  airs  and  treat  him  accord- 
ing; but  it  won't  work.'' 

"  Supposing  you  do  kmw  tint  Mr.  Hartley  was  that  evening  at 
the  house.  Do  you  fancy  that  you  cin  divert  justice  by  attempting 
to  throw  suspicion  upon  a  gentleman  ?  You  are  le-s  astute  than 
YOU  think  yourself,  Joseph,  and  you  had  better  be  careful  how  you 
proceed." 

"Well,  you  do  put  it  on  brave,  I  swear!"  he  exclaimed  admiringly, 
and  stopping  his  work  to  look  at  her. 

She  affected  to  misinterpret  him,  and  continued  resolutely, 

"  You  may  think  I  spe:ik  very  plainly,  but  it  is  for  your  own 
good.  You  know  that  your  reputation  for  honesty  is  not  very 
c-n viable,  you  know  how  many  times  I  have  benevolently  screened 
you,  and  assisted  you  o;,t  of  difficulty.  Ask  yourself  if  you  can 
stand  alone  when  all  will  be  against  you,  since  no  one  will  believe 
you  innocent.  AVhat  can  you  do  ?"' 

"I  may  come  to  a  pretty  tight  squeak  if  you  let  the  thing  go  on  ; 
I'm  free  to  own  up  that  I'll  have  a  hard  row.  But  what  I  can  do, 
is  to  tell  the  whole  tru'h  about  that  there  night,  and  if  any  one  has 
to  account  for  him  a-being  there  as  hadn't  ought  to  h-tve  been  there, 
Avhy  you  can,  and  you'll  have  to.  You'll  be  my  best  witness.  Miss 
Leonore,  and  I  count  on  you.  Lord  !  only  to  think,  now,  as  he 
should  a-come  to  see  the  young  miss,  and  f.ll  in  with  the  madam  ! 
nud  no  love  lost  atween  'em  now,  whatever  there  used  to  be !  I 
1  ave  it  to  you,  ma'am,  whether  a  feller  rn'ghtn't  as  well  be  stealing 
a  hindsome  horse  as  is  useful,  as  one  or  two  ladies'  hearts  a-  don't 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLARS.  305 

belong  to  him  and  as  is  useless  enough,  Lord  knows !  Besides,  he 
might  hiivd  helped  himself  to  both,  you  know  1  '  In  for  a  penny,  in 
for  a  pound.'  " 

She  saw  that  he  was  determined  to  brave  all,  that  he  was  fully  in- 
formed of  all  that  could  aid  him  in  that  night's  unfortunate  events; 
and  hesitating  how  to  pr  ceel,  she  affected  to  brush  something  from 
the  hem  of  her  dress,  aud  in  doing  so,  displayed,  unconsciously,  her 
wounded  hand  not  yet  recovered  from  the  violence  it  haJ.  received. 
Joseph  pointed  to  it  vvarningly. 

"You'd  best  wrap  it  up  in  arnica.  It  was  a  smart  blow  you  give 
it,  and  it  may  tell  more  tales  than  you'll  like.  I'll  have  enough  evi- 
dence without  that ;  that  won't  help  me  any,  unless  I  make  up  my 
mind  to  tell  the  truth  for  one  timu,  just  to  see  how  it  will  seem.  If 
I'm  convicted,  I  will.  I'll  have  my  say  if  I'm  put  to  it." 

"  Joseph,  you  have  nothing  to  gain  by  telling  me  a  falsehood. 
Did  you  take  Selim  off?  and  what  do  you  intend  to  do  with  him  ? 
You  can't  keep  him,  of  course.'' 

Joseph  laughed.  "Well  ma'am;  I  don't  say  I  did  n't  take  him, 
and  I  don't  say  I  won't  find  him  and  bring  him  back  for  a  good 
price.  Do  you  think  the  master'll  give  it  ?'' 

"  No.  He  distinctly  told  you  that  he  would  give  you  nothing. 
The  horse  wa^  mine,  and  if  any  one  makes  terms  with  you  for  his 
recovery,  it  will  be  I,  myself." 

His  face  fell.  lie  had  a  moderate  estimate  of  the  sum  under  lur 
exclus.ve  control,  and  his  speculation  seemed  less  lucrative  than  he 
had  hoped.  However,  he  would  not  come  down  too  low,  and  as  a 
last  "effort  to  arouse  her  fears,  he  said  doggedly, 

"After  all,  where's  the  use  of  foiling.  Whoever's  got  that  tlicrj 
banst,  knows  he's  worth  more  than  the  reward,  and  it  won't  cost  me 
a  c  nt  to  let  it  come  out  in  court  where  he  is  and  who  put  him  there. 
Mister  Louis  always  had  a  taste  for  horseflesh,  and — ' 

"  Hush ;  I  forbid  you  to  speak  his  name  ag.uu.'  However  willing 
yju  may  be  to  fix  your  guilt  upon  an  innocent  man — " 

"Lor  i  !"  interrupted  Joseph.  "If  you  call  him  an  innocent  man _ 
the  devil  may  drink  h-dy  water  !  and  as  to  speaking  his  name,  you'll 
have  to  hear  it  a  good  many  times  if  I'm  put  to  testify.  The  who'.o 
story  is  bound  to  come  out  then,  for  when  them  lawyers  get  a  feller, 
they're  bound  to  have  it  all  out  of  him.  My  gran'father  was  hal  u?) 
afore  the  lawyers  one  time,  and  he  always  said  afterwards,  (hat  In 
thought  to  the  hokey  they'd  have  drawed  his  toe  nails  up  throojli 
Ids  mouth !" 


806  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLAR3. 

"  All  tliis  is  of  no  effect,  Joseph.     I  know  what  you  think,  and 
what  you  hope  to  accomplish ;  and  all  this  circumlocution  is  useless." 
"Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  put  it  in  English,  ma'am?  I  han't 
a  gift  for  edication,  and  them  long  words  an't  wholesome  to  me." 

"  Tell  me  for  just  how  much  money  you  will  bring  Selim  back. 
You  need  not  try  to  extort  anything  from  me.  I  am  not  afraid  of 
anything  you  can  do,  and  unless  you  listen  to  reason,  the  law  shall 
take  its  course." 

"  Yes,  I  know  Mr.  Sterling  s-vid  so.  But  I  know,  too,  that  you'd 
rather  lose  forty  Selim's  than  one  husband,  and  that  you'll  never  let 
him  unbeknownstly  run  himself  into  a  lawsuit  where  even  if  he 
gets  his  property,  he'll  see  his  wife  so  smashed  that  he  won't  care  to 
pick  up  the  pieces.  You'll  never  go  and  trade  yourself  off  for  a 
horse." 

Leonore  flushed  from  neck  to  temple.  It  was  a  categorical  state- 
ment of  the  position  of  affairs,  and  she  could  not  deuy  it ;  but  with 
as  much  firmness  as  she  could  command,  she  said, 

"  Name  you  price,  Joseph." 

"  And  no  trap  ?  You  won't  spring  something  on  me  after  it,  a3 
will  make  my  profit  a  sorry  one  ?" 

"  No.  I  am  dealing  in  good  faith,  with  you.  Only  you  must  con- 
rider  that  it  is  a  business  affair  which  concerns  no  one  but  you  and 
myself,  and  you  are  upon  no  account  to  mention  it  to  any  one." 

"Well,  then  ;  say  three  hundred  dollars,  and  it's  done." 

"  I  will  give  you  that." 

"  In  advance,  ma'am ;  cause  you  see  it  mayn't  look  so  little  when 
the  beast  is  fairly  in  the  stable  again." 

"  I  will  give  you  half  in  advance.  You  know  I  am  to  be  trusted, 
and  I  know  you  are  not.  I  will  place  this  half  in  the  hands  of 
your  wife,  who  is  honest,  and  you  shall  not  touch  even  that,  till  you 
have  earned  it — she  need  not  know  how." 

Joseph  laughed  with  an  agitating  chuckle  that  shook  him  from 
his  tropical  boots  to  his  carroty  hair,  and  said  admiringly, 

"  You're  a  heap  sharper'n  you  was  in  them  old  days,  ma'arn. 
Your  eyeteeth  is  pn  tty  well  cut  now,  and  no  mistake  1  It's  a  pity 
you  hadn't  'em  when  you  needed  'em  more !" 

She  made  a  gesture  of  disgust  ani  impatience. 

"  Tell  me  at  once,  Joseph.     Do  you  accept  the  terms  ?" 

"Yes,  I  accept  'em.  I  don't  want  to  be  too  hard  on  you,  and 
you've  managed  it  pretty  sharp,  for  you." 

He  was  patronizing  and  encouraging  her!     Stung  with  Imrnilia- 


THE  1IOUSB  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  307 

tion  and  anger,  she  turned  away  abruptly  and  went  to  her  own 
room.  Lisle  had  entered  it  a  moment  before,  and  greeted  her  with 
an  affectionate  caress  as  they  met. 

"  What  au  unusual  color  you  have,  child.  Does  it  spring  from 
happiness,  or  excitement  ?  Tell  inc  ;  are  you  happy  2" 

<;  Oh,  Lisle,  entirely  !" 

"  You  pardon  right  royally,  dearest,"  and  he  kissod  her  forehead 
tenderly. 

She  raised  her  finger  warningly,  as  she  answered  playfully, 

"I  pardon,  but  I  attach  conditions  to  the  oblivion  that  should 
follow  a  disagreement.  This  time  I  am  mercenary." 

"  I  recollect  you  displayed  a  talent  that  way  the  day  you  con- 
sented to  many  me.  Well,  what  is  it  now  ?  You  shall  have  it, 
'  even  unto  the  half  of  my  kingdom.'  " 

''It  is  not  even  the  half  of  your  fortune,  Gracious  Majesty.  I 
want  only  three  hundred  dollars !'' 

"  Most  extravagant  lady !  But,  seriously,  Leonore,  I  am  going 
to-morrow  to  open  a  bunk  account  for  your  sole  benefit.  I  would 
have  done  so  to-d-iy,  but  they  prefer  to  see  you  as  you  write  your 
name  in  their  books,  as  there  is  so  little  difference  in  ladies'  hand- 
writing. It  is  only  a  safe  precaution,  and  if  you  will  present  your 
checks  in  person,  the  extra  trouble  will  be  amply  compensated  for 
in  the  perfect  security  against  forgery,  etc.  This  deposite  is  your 
own,  Leonore.  Use  it  as  you  will,  and  from  this  time  cease  to  con- 
sider me  your  banker." 

She  threw  her  arms  around  him,  and  only  kissed  him  passionately 
for  reply.  Tears  were  in  her  eyes,  and  softly  drying  them  he  said 
earnestly, 

"I  would  give  anything,  Leonore,  if  I  could  make  you  forget  this 
feeling  of  a  separate  identity  !  I  do  not  feel  it,  I  could  not  with  you. 
I  do  not  believe  it  is  in  the  power  of  mortal  woman  to  imagine  the 
oneness  of  thought  and  feding,  the  perfect  blending  of  identity, 
which  makes  a  man  flel  that  himself  and  his  wife  are  literally  the 
tame  being.'' 

"  Very  likely  not.  But  don't  forget,  Lisle,  that  she. is  not  likely  (o 
forget  that  they  are  two  distinct  individuals,  when  half  her  life  is 
passed  in  making  her  own  will  subservient  to  his — when  it  is  she 
who  is  plastically  to  bend  her  own  existence  into  the  channel  he  di- 
r.  cts.  I  doubt  if  this  is  ever  accomplished  so  perfectly  that  somo 
twinge  following  the  sacrifice  does  not  painfully  remind  her  that 
they  are  two  to  till  intents  and  purposes." 


308  TITS  IIOUSE  BEHIND  THIS  POPLARS. 

Tliero  was  a  regretful  tone  in  her  voice,  soft  as  it  was,  and  be  an- 
swered it  with  playful  raillery. 

"  Little  lady,  how  many  husbands  may  you  have  had,  to  speak  so 
wisely  and  earnestly  upon  the  subject.  I  should  be  sorry  to  believe 
that  you  acquired  all  this  philosophy  under  my  tutorship.'' 

u  You  are  a  good  husband,  Lisle.  Have  you  ever  asked  one  sac- 
rifice of  me  ?  If  ever  wife  had  cause  to  be  content,  that  wife  is 
yours." 

They  were  reclining  on  the  sofa,  and  she  was  threading  his  hair 
with  her  fingers  as  she  uttered  her  loving  evasion.  Suddenly  ho 
caught  her  hand  and  bent  a  troubled  gaze  upon  it. 

"Leonore,  what  ails  your  hand  ?     It  has  spots  upon  it  as  if  it  had 
been  bruised.    Indeed  it  is  scarcely  healed.    How  did  you  hurt  it?" 
She  snatched  it  from  him  and  rubbed  it  briskly  with  her  hand- 
kerchief, as  if  to  show  that  it  was  not  sensitive. 

"  it  is  nothing,  Lisle ;  a  mere  trifle  which  will  leave  no  trace  in  a 
few  hours.  How  easily  you  are  alarmed." 

He  took  both  her  hands  and  held  them  in  his  own  as  he  said 
pleadingly,  "Leouore,  why  won't  you  trust  me  !  This  H  no  recent 
accident ;  those  green  tints  are  the  work  of  day?,  not  hours." 
She  did  not  reply,  and  he  continued  more  earnestly, 
"  If  you  will,  not  trust  me,  do  at  least  accord  me  che  right, — or  if 
you  will  the  llessed  privilege,  of  protecting  you.  When  you  make 
these  journeys  in  which  so  many  accidents  are  liable  to  occur,  do  not 
start  off  alone,  at  night,  and  so  mysteriously.  Only  let  me  accom- 
pany you  to  your  journey's  end,  and  I  will  leave  you  when  you  com- 
mand, without  one  effort  or  wish  to  learn  the  object  which  called 
you.  I  will,  in  no  way  embarrass  you  ;  I  will  upon  the  contrary  do 
everything  in  my  power  to  c  irry  out  your  wishes  which  you  need 
not  attempt  to  explain  or  account  for.  Only  grant  me  this,  my 
little  wife  ;  accept  my  service  upon  your  own  terms,  and  be  assured 
that  you  cannot  realize  the  favor  you  will  thus  bestow  upon  me." 

His  lips  quivered,  and  his  eyes  were  misty  as  he  finished  Irs 
appeal  in  a  voice  more  eloquent  even  than  his  words. 

She  bent  forward  and  tendeily  raised  his  face  to  her  lip?.  £ho 
had  no  words  in  which  to  reply  to  such  a  petition  a3  this,  and  shtj 
struggled  with  a  choking  sensation  which  threatened  to  relieve 
itself  in  tears.  Mutely,  with  his  appealing  face  pillowed  upon  h  r 
throbbing  breast,  he  waited  her  reply. 

A  great  love  swelled  her  heart  to  bursting.  Whatever  motive  had 
led  her  heretofore  to  sacrifice  herself,  every  fibre  of  that  suffocating 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLAIIS.  309 

heait  cricrl  out  against  thug  sacrificing  the  object  of  its  love,  and 
clamping  him  in  an  embrace  whose  impetuosity  was  ouly  cquelied  by 
its  ardor,  she  said  passionately, 

"Lisle,  Lisle,  I  promise  all  you  wish!  Let  what  will  happen,  I 
never  will  leave  you  again.  Never  again  will  I  voluntarily  absent 
myself  from  you  for  one  hour.  Oh,  Lisle,  I  would  rather  die  than 
grieve  you,  than  cause  you  one  moment's  anxiety  !" 

Catching  her  to  his  breast  he  covered  her  face,  neck,  and  brow, 
with  kisses,  while  tears  of  tenderest  gratitude  beamed  in  his  eyes, 
ami  murmured  words  of  love  and  joy  told  how  deep  was  his  appre- 
ciation. Pu>hingthe  loosened  tresses  from  how  forehead,  he  looked 
down  upon  it  tenderly,  as  he  said, 

"  Bemember,  Leouore,  I  ask  no  sacrifice  of  you.  Go  where  and 
when  you  will;  so  .hat  I  go  with  you  to  shield  and  protect,  I  caro 
not  where  it  is." 

"  I  will  go  no  more,  Lisle.  My  pilgrimage*  are  done ;  there  is  no 
inducement  strong  enough  t  o  take  me  from  my  home,  our  home." 

This  was  more  than  he  had  hoped.  It  was  a  new  lease  of  life 
and  happiness.  He  had  no  more  to  dread  the  comments  of  a  cen- 
sorious wi.rld,  no  longer  a  secret  at  his  hearthstone.  For  the  past 
he  cared  nothing,  for  the  future  he  was  assured. 

L  >onore  was  awestruck  at  the  intensity  of  feeling  he  displayed. 
She,  who  knew  him  better  than  all  others,  had  often  thought  him 
coll  and  cynical,  always  believed  him  too  self  contained  to  suffer 
deeply  upon  any  account,  to  become  enthusiastic  under  any  ciicum- 
stanci'S.  A  pang  ot  self-reproach  and  fear  darted  to  her  breast,  a^ 
she  mutely  ejaculated, 

"  Should  he  ever  learn  all  I  conceal  from  him,  he  will  go  mad  1 
Go  I  help  and  forgive  me  !" 

The  next  morning,  bright  anel  early,  Selim  made  his  appearance, 
and  in  her  dressing  gown  Leonore  ran  down  to  biel  him  welcome. 
He  n'ave  a  little  whinny  when  led  up  to  the  balcony  for  her  caress, 
as  if  testifying  that  his  little  jaunt  had  agreed  with  him,  and  indeed 
was  sleek  and  glossy  as  if  he  had  not  been  outside  the  aristocratic 
precincts  of  his  own  proper  territory.  Lisle  looked  at  him  closely, 
and  more  than  evjr  convinced  that  no  one  but  Joseph  had  ever  thus 
cared  for  him,  ordered  him  to  the  stables,  and  awaiteel  the  return  of 
the  shambling  figure  who  soon  afterwarel  reappeaieel  chuckling 
with  much  self-satisfaction.  As  he  came  round  the  corner,  Lisle 
collared  him  with  no  gentle  grasp. 

"  You  are  a  conscienceless  knave,  sir,  and  deserve  a  caning  before 


310  THE  HOUS£  BEHIND   THE   POPLAB3. 

leaving  my  service.     From  this  hour  you  leave  it,  and  never  do  you 
d  irken  my  door  again." 

Joseph  looked  around  bewildered,  but  exclaimed  with  an  injured 
air, 

"  I  thought  you  said,  '  bring  him  back  and  no  questions  asked.1 " 

"  I've  asked  none.     I  only  tell  you  to  begone.     Not  a  word,  sir  1" 

He   skulked  around  to  the  kitchen  for  the  double  purpose  of 

claiming  his  reward  and  taking  a  marital  farewell,  and  for  days 

[Mrs.  Perkins  was  transformed  into  a  well-fed  Niobe  with  a  swollen 

nasal  organ  which  spoke  much  for  her  sensibility,  if  it  did  not 

improve  her  comeliness. 

Altogether  Joseph's  absence  was  a  relief  to  all ;  and  having  shed 
some  natural  and  wifely  tears,  Mrs.  Perkins  lound  consolation  in 
philosophy,  and  thus  expressed  herself  in  confidential  soliloquy, 

"  There  is  few  husbands  as  is  worth  the  having,  after  all ;  and 
she  as  gets  quit  of  one  without  lending  a  hand,  is  blessed  beyond 
women  in  general !  Joseph  is  an  unprofitable  partner,  which  it 
can't  be  denied.  I  do  wonder,  though,  how  he  came  to  be  paid  all 
that  money.  It's  along  of  some  rascality,  as  I'd  be  put  up  to  tes- 
tify 1" 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 

AN  interval  of  profound  peace  and  quiet  happiness  succeeded  this 
first  domestic  storm;  a  peace  so  hushed  and  serene,  a  happiness  so 
evidently  perfect,  that  no  one  could  believe  it  ever  ruffled  or  threat- 
ened by  one  disturbing  element.  Even  Mrs.  Venard  dismissed  tha 
apprehensions  that  had  assailed  her,  born  as  they  were  of  her  very 
love  for  Leonore,  whom  she  cherished  as  one  woman  does  now  and 
then  cherish  ano' her,  despite  the  jibes  of  scoffer  and  skeptic.  Mr.. 
Bertram  alone  luxuriated  in  his  chronic  grumbling,  excusing  his 
foreboding  under  so  serene  a  prospect  by  the  assertion  that  "  Bedlam 
Uself  must  now  and  then  be  quiet  while  remustering  forces  for  a 
fresh  row.'1 

Lisle,  more  jovial  and  universally  companionable  than  he  had  ever 
IK  en,  bestowed  upon  his  wife  the  most  devoted  attentions,  while 
she,  usually  so  calm  and  undemonstrative,  met  his  glance  with 
radiant  eyes,  and  a  soft  flushing  of  the  cheek  that  was  the  very 
roseaie  reflection  of  the  love  nestling  in  her  heart.  Relieved  of  her 
anxiety  for  Julie  by  hei  evident  content  under  Louis  Hartley's  ab- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS.  311 

senae — and  it  was  unmistakable  that  lie  was  absent — she  hourly  con- 
firmed in  herself  the  conviction  that  Julie's  good  sense  and  discrim- 
ination had  led  her  to  dismiss  him  and  refuse  his  proffered  devo- 
tion, convin  ced  as  she  must  be  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  that 
her  friends,  and  Lisle  especially,  would  ever  consent  to  a  marriage 
between  them,  even  were  her  regard  for  him  unchanged.  It  was 
more  than  probable  that  she  had  changed  toward  him.  Observing 
day  by  day  all  that  passed  before  her  in  connection  with  Julio  f  tr 
whom  her  anxiety  had  been  so  torturing,  she  believed  that  a  new 
love  had  already  supplanted  the  old.  It  was  impossible  she  should 
not  see  the  deep  affection  manifested  in  Edward's  every  act  toward 
her,  natural  that  she  should  appreciate  it,  and  she  was  less  than, 
woman  if  she  did  not  in  some  measure  return  it.  He  must  indeed 
be  unlovable,  or  have  appealed  to  a  deeply  preoccupied  heart, 
whose  devotion  reaps  not  some  tithe  of  the  reward  he  would  claim 
for  it.  Ju!ie  was  too  truthful  and  honorable  to  give  even  tacit  en- 
couragement to  a  love  she  did  not  reciprocate,  even  did  she  not  in  a 
thousand  ways  evidence  that  she  did  so,  as  was  now  the  case.  A 
conscientious,  true  hearted  woman  ever  feels  herself  as  fully  com- 
mitted by  the  silent  encouragement  she  gives  to  such  a  hope,  as 
though  she  had  verbally  sanctioned  it ;  and  either  Julie  was  at  war 
with  her  own  heart,  or  all  danger  from  her  regard  for  Louis  Hartley 
was  over.  Thus  Leonore  reasoned,  and  was  content. 

Edward  himself  was  not  the  least  satisfied  member  of  the  little 
family,  happy  even  by  imperceptible  degrees  to  approach  that  one 
consummation  in  whose  pursuit  ha  had  never  wavered.  Already 
possessing  a  fine  practice,  he  was  winning  at  once  celebrity  and  a 
competence,  playfully  as  he  derided  his  own  skill,  when,  as  some- 
tunes  happened,  congratulations  and  compliments  became  weari- 
some. He  had  "  the  real  Fitzjames  family  modesty,"  he  declared  in 
family  conclave,  "and  after  a  wholesale  massacre  of  the  innocents  by 
mistaking  measles  for  scarletina,  and  teething  for  cholera  infantum, 
a  f  How  feels  that  there  is  less  than  a  shade  difference  between  ex- 
treme polUenass  and  sarcasm."  The  surest  evidence  of  his  skill  lay 
in  the  fact  that  his  remarks  upon  it  did  not  weaken  other  people's 
faith  in  it.  His  instinctive  jealousy  of  Hartley  had  faded  out,  aa 
nothing  occurred  to  keep  it  alive ;  and  indeed  his  very  existence 
sc'.:ui';d  forgotten,  so  completely  unmentioned  was  his  name. 

Li.sle  himself  no  more  alluded  to  him  as  heretofore,  and  if  hia 
avoidance  was  studied,  nothing  manifested  it.  His  name  had  proved 
a  disturbing  cause — sufficient  reason  it  should  rest  unmeui  oncd. 


SI 2  TUB   110U3K  BKHIKD  THE   POPLAE3. 

Happy  in  the  sunny  tranquillity  of  his  home,  Li*le  gradually  for- 
sook the  busine.  s  routine  which  had  before  absorbed  so  much  of  his 
time,  and  quitj  surrendered  himse.f  to  the  delights  of  that  lover'a 
paradise  which  exists  so  rarely  in  married  life,  even  when  mutual 
reg-\rd  is  most  lasting  and  sincere.  So  the  wintry  days  glided  by, 
and  the  bright  spring-time  came  with  its  wealth  of  color  and  per- 
fume, like  a  natural  harmony  set  to  the  ''love  life"  of  the  happy 
family. 

All  day  long  the  birds  sang  hi  the  blooming  shrubbery  which  made 
the  capacious  grounds  a  bird  paradise,  and  conclaves  were  held  to 
discuss  the  propriety  of  nesting  in  the  live  oaks  that  bordered  the 
carriage  drive  out  tj  the  street — debates  settled  at  last  by  the  more 
ad  enturous  actu  ;lly  commencing  their  labors,  with  a  family  gravity 
most  edifying  to  behold  by  those  who  idly  watched  them  from  the 
windows.  The  galleries  were  strewn  with  treasures  dear  to  the 
heart  of  the  feathered  brood,  who,  exulting  over  the  building  ma- 
terial thus  provided,  and  tempted  by  the  choice  selection  of  comm  s- 
sary  stores,  went  and  came  with  a  rollicking  familiarity  that  won 
for  them  the  title  of  "little  friends."  lu  vain  the  tidy  housekeeper 
remonstrated  against  whit  she  termed  "an  unwholesome  litter." 
"The  little  friends "'  remained  triumphant,  and  ^Irs.  Parkins  retired 
in  disgust  at  "the  idle,  upsetting  ways,  which  were  like  anything, 
more  than  like  any  quality  w  lys  she  ever  saw  before."  Great  was 
her  relief  when  a  new  direction  was  i_iven  to  their  thoughts  by  pre- 
parations for  a  summer  flitting  to  tiie  s  aside  wate;  ing-places,  Lisle 
himself  displaying  an  unusual  interest  in  what  he  had  ever  before 
ridicule!  if  not  disliked. 

Edward  alone  remained  proof  against  the  epidemic  raging 
through  their  entire  socia'  circle,  quite  refusing  to  desert  hispitienta 
for  an  euti:e  summer,  but  promising  the  delights  of  his  society  by 
each  Saturday's  boat,  and  even  Julie's  appealing  glances  won  from 
Li:n  only  the  laughing  assertion  thnt  "  there  is  a  charm  in  chronic 
rheumatism,  and  the  dear  delights  of  whooping  cough,  not  to  be 
rivelled  even  by  watering-place  gossip  and  tk?  snares  of  bear. 

'•  I  vron't  hor.e  that  you  may  be  afflicted  with  both  for  your  pre- 
ference ;  for  I  am  charitable,  little  as  you  may  think  it,"  she  laugh- 
ingly retorted  ;  but  after  a  moment's  serious  pause  she  added  softly, 
"  I  cannot  express  to  you  how  much  your  absence  will  de-tract  from 
my  pleasure.  I  had  calculated  so  certainly  that  you  woald  be  with 

-3  :•> 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THii  POPLARS.  313 

Possessing  himself  of  her  little  hand,  he  pressed  it  fondly,  as  he 
asked,  looking  into  her  eyvs  now  veiled  and  downcast, 

"  Is  this  verily  true,  Julie  ?  Am  I  just  a  little  necessary  to  your 
happiness  ?  Thank  you  J'or  the  assurance." 

She  hesitated  before  she  replied  with  a  flushing  brow, 

"  It  is  true,  Edward,  though  I  perish  for  confessing  it.  I  have  no 
right  to  speak  such  words  to  you.  Forget  them  it' you  will." 

"  Ah,  Julie  !  If  you  knew  how  impossible  it  is  for  me  to  forget 
the  slightest  words  you  ever  spoke  to  me  in  kindness  !  It'  you  kucw 
all  I  have  dared  to  dream  of,  what  I  now  dare  hope — " 

He  drew  her  head  to  his  breast,  and  tenderly  kissed  her  fair  hair. 

She  felt  that  she  should  forbid  the  caress,  that  strict  honor  bade 
her  then  and  there  forever  crush  the  hope  he  avowed.  But  she 
liul  not  the  resolution,  if  indeed  she  had  the  wish  to  do  so,  and  she 
compromised  by  saying  sof.ly, 

"  Sometime,  Edward,  not  now,  I  shall  tell  you  something  which  I 
f  el  it  is  right  you  should  know." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  it  now,  little  one.  Keep  it  for  some  leisure 
hour  when  I  visit  you  at  your  seaside  resort." 

"  So,  you  still  intend  only  to  visit  us  ?" 

"Julie,  I  would  sacrifice  far  more  to  go  with  you  than  you  would 
to  have  me.  Think  how  lonely  my  life  will  be  here  without  you.  I 
simply  cannot  get  away,  but  shall  pass  my  hours  among  the  sick, 
Avhile  you,  amid  dancing,  merry-making,  and  flirtation,  will  hardly 
count,  the  hours  that  separate  us." 

"I  thall  not  flirt  at  all.  Of  that  you  mny  be  sure.  I  only  wish  I 
hnd  nothing  mo  e  serious  to  trouble  me.  Edward,  I  ana  a  wretch  ; 
just  a  conscienceless,  miserable!  little  wretch  !" 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  :im  in  love  with  such  wickedness.  Don't  protest  now. 
Tc  1  mo  all  about  it  another  time." 

Shaking  both  the  little  hands  he  had  imprisoned,  he  lightly  kissed 
them,  and  smiling  brightly  he  turned  away. 

It  was  a  large  and  merry  circle,  that,  flitting  in  company,  took 
possession  of  the  rooms  awaiting  them  at  the  chosen  resort,  wheie 
rolling  waves  dashed  upon  tha  beach,  and  the  white  spray  looked 
ever  fresh  and  cool  despite  the  burning  sun  that  beat  down  upon  it 
during  the  noontide  heats  when  the  most  inveterate  pleasure  seekers 
were  fain  to  remain  indoors.  Here,  fanned  by  breezes  that  swept 
the  gicen  waters  for  many  a  league  befo  e  cooling  their  grateful 
brows,  chosen  coterie?  loitered  on  the  galleries,  with  many  a  jest,  or 
mo:e  seriously  converged  in  accordance  with  the  caprice  of  the  hour. 


314  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

Delicious  strolls  after  sunset,  boating  and  fishing  excursions,  all  tho 
amusements  which  occupy  the  passing  hours,  lured  eich  to  his  chosen 
rlivcr.-ion,  and  care  was  a  thing  apparently  forgotten. 

Master  Charley  Venard  fancied  himself  seriously  enamored  with 
Julie,  and  favored  her  with  an  amount  of  devotion  which  was  sufli- 
ticutly  fimusing  to  others,  however  serious  to  himself,  and  that 
young  lady  showed  him  a  flattering  preference  over  all  her  gallants, 
that  brought  down  upon  him  many  a  mental  anathema  from  thoso 
who  would  gladly  have  filled  his  place,  had  she  permitted.  Certainly 
she  flirted  with  no  one  if  not  with  Master  Charley,  and  Edward 
himself  must  have  been  satisfied  had  he  known.  Like  lovers  of  a 
larger  growth,  Charley's  devotion  was  fervent  while  it  endured,  and 
if  his  vows  of  eternal  fidelity  were  to  be  accepted  with  a  mental 
reservation,  it  was  only  carrying  out  the  resemblance.  This  playing 
at  love  was  very  amusing  to  Julie,  and  she  rewarded  him  with 
bright  smiles,  and  most  constant  companionship.  "  The  child  must 
learn  it  at  some  time,"  she  laughingly  declared  ;  and  she  corrected 
and  tutored  him  in  a  way  that  was  keenest  sarcasm  upon  his 
ciders,  when  she  choose  to  inflict'it. 

For  one  wole  month  Lisle  endured  the  customary  round  of  water- 
ing-place life ;  and  then  his  gradually  waning  patience  failed  entirely. 
The  tedious  amount  of  dressing,  the  idle  chatter,  the  weiry  round 
of  sleepless  hours  filled  up  with  an  amount  of  labor  that  rightly 
applied  might  have  moved  mountains  instead  of  merely  defining 
the  lines  of  qu  idrille  and  waltz,  and,  worse  than  all,  the  loitering 
round  his  parlor  of  idle  ladies  whose  chit-chat  was  always  the  same 
and  never  ending,  quite  depriving  him  of  anything  like  the  society 
and  companionship  of  his  own  wife, — all  this  became  unbearable, 
and  his  old  forcibleness  of  expression  came  back  upon  him,  banished 
as  it  had  been  under  the  happy  life  preceding  this  migration. 

•'  Feminine  tongues  must  be  made  of  the  very  tangible  essence  of 
restlessness!  and  if  there  were  some  legal  interdiction  against  all 
originality  they  couldn't  more  carmlly  refrain  from  it.  I've  heard 
the  same  things  so  many  times  over,  that  I  always  know  just  what 
the  next  sentence  will  be,  no  matter  who  utters  the  first.  Aren't 
you  homesick,  Leonore  ?" 

She  only  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"Haven't  sported  all  your  dresses  yet,  or  you  would  be.  IIo-,v 
long  before  you  will  have  paraded  the  very  last  one?  I'd  like  !o 
have  some  limit  named  to  my  martyrdom.  Ah,  me,  who's  th  i.  ai 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POrLAftS.  315 

the  door  ?  '  Better  dwell  ir.  the  midst  of  alarms  than  reign  in  this 
horrible  place !'  Come  in,  Mrs.  Bertram.  I'm  glad  it  is  you." 

"  Since  it  must  be  some  one,  eh  ?  Well,  as  I've  no  husband  of  my 
own  to  growl  here,  I'm  glad  to  liear  some  one's  else.  What  upon 
earth  did  you  come  with  us  for  ?'' 

"  I  wanted  to  maintain  something  like  social  intimacy  with  my 
fiinil/;  but  I've  been  s-idly  disappionted.  See  now;  here  comes  at 
ha  t  halt'  :i  dozen  more  ladies,  and  a  fashion  nrtgtzine  to  b;  dis- 
cussed !"  So  indeed  there  did;  and  feeling  much  in  the  humor  of 
'Mrs.  Pardigle's '  bricklayer,  he  might  have  asked 'are  there  any 
more  of  yoTi,'  had  not  p^l.teness  triumphed  over  human  nature. 
Mrs.  Bertram  fixed  a  pair  of  laughing  eyes  upon  him.  "  You  are 
crying  to  go  back  home,  I'll  wager  my  last  treasure  in  crochet.  Do 
you  cry  like  the  poor  starling,  'I  can't  get  out?'" 

"With  a  difference;  the  spirit  is  the  same.  What  is  the  latest 
thint:  in  bonnets,  ladies?  for  I'm  srre  all  that  commotion  is  due  to 
the  all-powerful  bonnet,  and  nothing  les^." 

"  1'  i  1  e  glad  to  know  what  could  be  less,  for  that  has  come  to  be 
just  nothing  at  all,''  replied  some  lady  unnoticing  the  quiet  sarcasm 
of  his  manner. 

"Ah,  me;  if  I  were  but  a  member  of  Legislature  now  ?" 

"  I'd.  ask  what  if  you  were,  if  I  were  not  sure  you'vj  an  imperti- 
nence to  put  forth,"  retorted  Mr.-'.  Bertram. 

"  Don'c  ask  ;  I'll  tell  you  without.  I  want  to  legislate  up.--n  a  mat- 
ter tint  has  caused  me  many  sle:>p!ess  hours;  namely,  walking  mon- 
umenis  of  folly." 

"  Ah,  that's  wrong.     Never  tu-  n  tr-dtor  to  your  own  sex  t" 

The  bevy  of  ladies  received  the  repartee  with  much  merrim<  nt. 
But  maintaining  his  gravity,  he  implied, 

"  Not  lor  my  own  sex  would  I  btoop  to  politic*.  I  rise  to  such  a 
height  of  magnanimity  only  for  yours.  I'd  like  to  see  an  act  passed 
setting  aside  about  thiee  ladies  in  every  hundred  in  a  community, 
who  should  perpetuate  the  '  gone  out '  fashions.  When  the  majority 
prove  false  to  their  last  'loves  of  bonnets'  and  the  re-t  of  tho 
paraphenalia  of  the  same  da'e,  L-t  three  remain  faithful  and  not 
leave  the  old  one  for  the  new.  I  confess  I  should  compassionate  tho 
victim-,  but  it  would  ba  a  sorry  comment  upon  the  taste  anl  judg- 
ment which  so  universally  cry  'lovely,'  'splendid,'  beautiful,'  at 
each  new  deformity  pro  munced  an  fait  by  fashion  makers." 

"  Don't  we  hear  enough  sinh  philosophy  as  it  is?  I've  yet  to  k-arn 
that  any  man  ever  admired  his  wife  the  more  for  looking  a  dov.-Jy 


316  THE   IIOUSB  BiiUIND   THH  POPLARS. 

Dowcl:n?3s  may  be  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues,  but  Iius.bar.cl3  will 
prefer  ladies  less  perfect  in  that  respect.  Isn't  it  so,  Mrs.  Sterling?" 

"I  know  I  would  not  put  uiy  husband's  regard  to  i-uch  a  test; 
and  he's  a  model  husband  too.  You'd  belter  beat  a  retreat,  Lisle. 
You  will  find  no  sympathizers  here,"  Mrs.  Sterling  replied.  It  was 
evident  that  he  represented  a  minority  composed  of  one;  and  he 
leaned  back  on  the  sofa  in  silence 

''Thirteen  ruffles  of  graduated  width,"  read  she  of  the  magazine 
des  modfs  ;  and  Lisle  paraphrased  sotto  voce, 

"Thirteen  devils  of  various  shades  of  aggravation!  Mrs.  .Ber- 
tr'.m,  wave  your  handkerchief  out  ihe  window  when  this  cabal 
breaks  up.  I'm  compelled  to  desert  my  home." 

"  Hush,  and  be  ci^'il.  They  won't  stay  1  >ng.  They  never  do 
when  you  are  hero,  if  it  consoles  you  to  hear  it." 

"If  every  one  had  a  generous  husband,  like  you,  Mrs  Sterling  .'" 
was  the  next  ejaculation  that  caught  his  attention.  "I  haven't  nskccl 
for  a  new  dress  in  six  mo.iths  without  being  treated  to  a  long  array 
of  what  Henry  styles  '  facts  and  figures,'  and  I'm  sure  I  detest 
them  !" 

"  So  do  I,"  chimed  in  another.  "  I  never  yet  saw  a  wife  too  well 
informed  upon  her  husband's  business  matters,  who  was  not  worn 
out,  anxious,  and  prematurely  old." 

Lisle  laughed  his  cynical  laugh,  and  took  up  the  retort  despite 
his  wife's  appealing  glance. 

"  Oh,  woman  !  '  tliou  help-meet  in  hours  of  trouble,  thou  cousok  r 
of  our  sorrows  and  divider  of  our  burdens;  most  southing  compan- 
ion of  the  weary  hear*  and  toil-worn  brain  !'  I  w<  11  dor  who  inven*- 
ed  all  that  ?  It  couldn't  have  been  a  woman,  for  such  an  idea  never 
occurred  to  on  -.  It  was  probably  some  imaginative  bachel  r  !" 

There  was  consternation  if  not  displeasure  among  the  coterie  who 
received  this  moral  bombshell,  nnd  though  she  drew  a  quick  breath 
of  surprise  ami  alarm,  Mrs.  Bertram  replied  with  a  sally, 

"  Lisle  Sterling  you  can't  expect  to  have  such  entiments  tolerated 
in  this  community.  Take  them  back  to  the  shad  w  of  your  domestic 
roof.  Go  b.ck  to  the  Infant  and  the  invaluable  Joseph,  nnd  leave 
us  in  peaee  !'' 

"  Alas,  Joseph  '  has  gone,  he  hns  left  me,  I  shall  see  no  more'  the 
fcatir.es  that  always  seemed  to  me  to  have  been  gathered  rp  by 
handiuls  and  flung  at  him.  He  has  gone,  tropic  d  b-n>ts  anel  all !  I 
don't  know  how  Leon  >re  will  exist  without  hi'u,  for  he  was  her  fac- 
totum. ' 


THE  HOUSE  BE!Ii::i>   THiS   POPLAU3.  317 

Leonore  looked  so  troubled  and  apprehensive  under  tliis  banter, 
which  her  n'jw  acquaintances  were  at  an  evident  loss  how  to  receive, 
that  Mrs.  Venaid,  who  was  one  of  the  circle,  rose  to  disperse  the  as- 
sembly, saying  as  she  set  the  example  of  going, 

"I  would  candidly  advise  you  to  banish  that  husband  of  yours, 
Mrs.  Sterling.  People  will  say,  next,  that  he  has  been  embittered 
against  our  whole  sex  by  his  unhappiiKSs  with  his  wife.  The  more 
unjust  a  slander  is,  the  wider  it  seems  to  c'rculate." 

Ti;C  ladies  left,  some  o(  them  evidently  piqued  ;  and  Leonore  sighed 
audibly.  Women  are  so  quick  to  catch  at  anything  that  can  by  any 
possibility  be  construed  as  a  reflection  against  another  woman,  that 
the  sarcastic  apostrophe  Lisle  had  uttered  would  ceriainly  recoil  upon 
herself  should  she  by  any  chance  lose  her  popularity  among  them. 
She  did  not  utter  the  reproach  she  felt,  but  he  read  it  as  he  did  most 
that  she  thought. 

"  Dear  little  coward,  why  should  you  care  whether  or  cot  they 
fancy  you  a  -model  wife,  so  long  as  I  nm  satisfied  ?" 

"  Ah,  you  admit  ihen  that  you  haven't  given  the  very  highest  tes- 
timony in  my  praise!''  she  said  smiling  fnin'ly. 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that  till  this  moment.  I  have  no  patience  with 
•wives  who  arc  ceaselessly  complaining  of  niggardliness  in  their  hus- 
bands, yet  obstinately  refuse  to  recognize  his  pecuniary  position. 
The  marital  'Henry  '  is  my  debtor  for  a  lecture,  whatever  his  wife 
may  think  of  it !  But  I'll  leave  to-morrow,  Leonore.  I  don't  think 
this  sort  of  life  improves  me,  and  I'll  confine  myself  to  weekly  visits, 
like  E.hvard." 

Julie  entered  the  room  in  time  to  catch  the  last  assertion,  and  she 
br'ghtoned  under  it  most  unflatteringly.  Lisle  turned  upon  ha- 
with  characteristic  reproach. 

"  Glad  of  i',  are  you  ?     And  why,  pray  ?" 

"Oh,  husbands  are  often  capital  fellows,  but  it's  comfortable  to 
have  them  out  of  the  way  when  one  loves  the  wife  the  better." 

*'  And  pray  who  may  be  the  mysterious  '  •  ne '  who  loves  my  wife  ? 
I  don't  know  that  I  thank  him  for  the  compliment." 

"  Blue  Beard,  it  is  I  who  d  ire  commit  such  blasphemy!  I  don't 
see  enough  of  Leonore  to  consider  that  we  are  intimate  associates, 
now." 

"  Nor  I.  It  is  for  just  this  reason  that  I  am  going.  If  you  gain  by 
it  any  opportunity  to  confide  to  her  your  wonderful  little  secreis, 
you  will  be  more  fortunate  than  I  have  been  in  remaining." 

Julie  liughed.  "Mrs.  Bertram  would  retort  that  people  who  nra 
in  love  with  c.  ch  other  ought  not  to  go  into  society  together;  but 


318  '-US   HOL'Sii   BEHIND   Tllli   POPLAUS. 

one  c  'uldn't  expect  you  to  turn  recluse  for  life.  Don't  coax  LeonorO 
off  With  you,  for  she  can't  be  spared." 

"So  she  thinks.  Keep  her,  and  may  she  bean  ogress  in  her 
guardianship  of  you.  Hello !  there  comes  the  tteamer,  and  of 
course  Edward.1'  Seizing  his  hat  he  rushed  out  to  meet  his  brother, 
and  the  two  ladies  were  left  together. 

Regularly  as  Edward  had  made  his  promised  visits,  the  hour  to 
which  Julie's  revelation  had  been  postponed  iiad  not  yet  arrived, 
and  week  by  week  she  was  more  loth  to  tell  him  of  her  engagcmi-nt 
to  another.  Unsuspecting  the  existence  of  such  >m  obstacle  to  his 
happiness,  Edward  was  content  in  her  manifest  affection  for  him, 
little  dreaming  of  the  many  sleepless  hoars  during  which  she  looked 
her  destiny  in  the  face,  querying  if  it  were  indeed  inevitable.  Not 
one  real  thought  of  breaking  her  engagement  with  Louis  Hartley 
had  been  entertained  by  her.  Never  had  she  Leen  false  to  her 
p1  edged  word,  she  would  have  shrunk  from  being  so  now.  But 
her  weak  woman's  heart  clung  to  the  happiness  this  new  lovo 
created  in  her  life,  even  as  it  shrank  from  inflicting  a  pain  which 
might  in  some  now  unknown  way  be  avoided.  Thus  has  many  a 
woman  compromised  with  strict  honor  in  battling  against  a  fate 
which  she  prays  may  be  averted  by  other  power  than  hers.  Who 
shall  say  that  much  of  what  the  world  terms  heartlessuesa,  is  but 
the  living  essence  of  divine  tenderness  and  mercy;  that  many  a  one 
who  is  stigmatized  as  a  conscienceless  coquette,  is  uufortunante  only 
in  being  endowued  with  more  heart  than  judgment.  Despite  the 
sentimental  teaching,  love  may  change  its  object;  and  who  shall  say 
that  one  only  is  sincere  and  genuine,  or  both  a  counterfeit  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVHL 

THE  departing  steamer  upon  Monday,  found  Lisle  on  board, 
faithful  to  his  word,  and  Leonore  and  Julie  remained  without  him. 

On  the  very  day  suc:ccding  his  departure,  Louis  Hartley,  still 
under  his  nom  de  guerre,  appeared  at  the  ho  el,  and  his  was  the  first 
ligure  that  greeted  the  eyes  of  the  two  ladies  as  they  entered  the 
breikfast  room.  He  looked  up  and  bowed  profoundly  as  they  took 
their  places  at  a  table  near  him.  Leouore's  head  remained  uncom- 
promisingly erect,  her  face  unrevea'.ingly  calm  despite  the  quick 
t'.irobbing  of  her  l.eart,  and  Julie  alone  returned  his  salutation,  with 
au  increase  of  color  which  she  could  not  control. 


THE  HOU££  B1SUIND  TUB  POPLAilS,  31£ 

Either  by  accid  ut  or  design,  he  was  seated  so  near  them,  and  so 
exactly  opposite,  that  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  meeting  his  eyea 
each  time  t!iey  raised  their  own,  and  the  triumphant  half-smile  that 
fixed  itself  upon  his  face  proved  tint  he  realized  the  full  effect  of 
his  unwelcome  presence. 

Forcing  herself  to  maintain,  the  same  outward  imperturbability, 
Leonore  proceeded  to  breakfast  silently,  and  Julie  was  equally  Ab- 
sorbed. Master  Chailey  had  habitually  sat  at  their  table  when 
Edward  did  not  monopolize  the  fourth  sea',  and  Mrs.  Venard  this 
morning  joined  tlu-m,  though  rather  late. 

"I  don't  li..e  this  vacant  chair  to  repro  c!i  me  for  the  advice  I 
guvo  you  to  banish  its  lawful,  if  sometimes  lawles?,  occupant,  so  I 
will  till  it  myself.  Do  you  already  begin  to  feel  forsaken  ?" 

Leonore  made  an  effort  to  reply  in  her  usual  tone  ;  but  it  was  a 
said  failure,  and  Mrs.  Venard  noticed  it. 

"  You  have  taken  cold  upon  that  windy  gallery,  Leonore.  You 
are  hoarse,  and  looking  far  fh>m  well." 

She  was  spared  an  evasion  by  an  exclamation  of  Master  Charley, 
who  with  his  customary  interest  was  inventorying  the  new  arrival-. 
Suddenly  his  eyes  had  flashed,  and  touching  Julie's  hand  to  attract 
her  attention,  he  said  with  precocious  jealousy, 

"  There  sits  that  fellow  we  met  on  the  beach  the  other  day  !  I 
wonder  what  he's  here  for.  He  is  just  horrid,  with  his  eternal  grin." 

Mrs.  Vena  id  cast  a  reproving  glance  upon  him,  as  she  said, 

"Hush, my  son,  you  will  be  overheard.  Haven't  you  been  taught 
never  to  make  remarks  upon  people  in  their  presence  ?" 

"  I  don't  care  ]f  he  does  hear  me.  He's  a  jackanapes,''  was  the 
rather  unfilial  reply,  but  in  a  lower  tone.  Mrs.  Venard  glanced  at 
the  gentleman  thus  apostrophized,  and  so  chanced  to  meet  a  most 
peculiar  look  bent  upon  herself.  It  ceased  directly  that  she  so  en- 
countered it,  but  it  left  an  indelible  impression,  one  of  those  thrills 
of  antagonism  which  very  sensitive  people  often  experience  when 
brought  in  contact  with  those  who  are  mentally  repulsive  to  them, 
though  even  unknown  ;  and  heedless  of  her  recent  reproof  to  Chailey 
bhe  exclaimed  involuntarily, 

"  What  a  disagreeable  man!" 

"  So  you  don't  think  he's  so  mighty  handsome,  ma?"  Charley  sug- 
gested. » 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  certainly  would  be  called  handsome,  by  many.  Who 
is  he?1' 

Julie  bent  a  telegraphic  glance  upon  the  boy,  who  too  uiagnani- 


320  THE  HOUSE  BEUtXD  T:ir. 


fo  reply  when  lie  knew  she  dcs'rcd  him  to  bj  ti!  nt.  hung  U"* 
head.  while  she  herself  said  careksjly, 

''  He  is  a  Mr.  Horton  whom  I  met  i:i  the  N«rtli  z^mn  tune  ago.  If 
Charley  knew  how  littlo  interest  I  feel  in  his  presence  here,  lus 
wo  .Idu't  be  jealous,  as  he  evidently  is." 

"And  why  not,  when  he  kissed  your  hand,  and  jabbered  all  t!io 
tune  in  French  so  I  couldn't  understand  a  word.  I  don't  believe  any 
man  would  stand  that  peaceably." 

'•  Oh.  you  ri  liculous  boy  !"-exclaimed  his  mother  laughing.  "  Mi-s 
.Tu  ie  will  regret  all  her  condescension  toward  you  if  you  make  suc'i 
a  return  for  it  ;is  this.  It  is  bad  enough  when  grown-up  boys  turn 
tyrant  in  response  to  over  appreciation,  but  worse  in  small  ones. 
Recollect  people  are  tolerated  only  during  good  behavior." 

"  I  shall  discard  Master  Charley  from  this  hour,"  said  Julie  lay- 
ing down  her  napkin  and  gravely  ris:ng  to  go. 

The  subject  of  this  conversation  had  meantime  departed,  much 
to  Leonore's  relief.  Glad  as  she  was  that  Mrs.  Venard's  attention 
had  b  en  directed  from  herself,  it  was  scarcely  be:ter  that  she  was 
troubled  upon  Julie's  account,  seeing,  as  she  had,  that  there  AVIS 
more  beneath  this  chance  encounter  than  met  the  eye.  Faithful  to 
the  instinct  of  boyho  d,  Charley  had  laid  a  train  that  he  could  not 
render  harmless  an  i  tl:ere  was  so  much  real  displeasure  in  Julie's 
mind  against  him,  that  he  passed  but  a  sorry  day  amid-t  ineffjctua! 
rep  ntancv  and  unabated  jealousy. 

Leonore  followed  Julie  to  their  priv.te  parlor,  an  1  effectua'.lv 
bolting  out  intruders,  seized  her  impetuously  b}'  the  arm  and  drew 
her  to  a  seat  beside  her,  as  she  exclaimed  abruptly, 

"Julie,  do,  you  must,  give  me  your  confidence.  What  i*  th-it 
wretch  to  you  ?" 

u  How  do  you  know  he  is  a  wretch  ?  Wh  itdo  you  know  of  hi:;i  ?  ' 
she  asked  in  surprise. 

"  Don't  que-tion  me,  Julie,  unless  indeed  you  will  give  me  confi- 
dence for  confidence.  Will  you  do  this  ?" 

tShe  shook  her  head.  "It  is  useless  dear  Leonore.  All  I  cou!  1 
tell  you  would  be  powerless  to  charge  what  is  inevitable." 

"  O  >.  Julie,  have  I  then  so  entirely  failed  to  w  n  your  affection  ? 
If  I  have  so  filled,  Heavn  forgive  me,  since  it  was  only  becau-o  I 
i'elt  that  I  had  no  right  to  receive  it.  I  will  win  that  right  by  any 
self-humiliation,  if  through  it  I  can  serve  and  save  you."- 

Julie  kissed  her  very  gently  as  she  replied, 

"I  do  love  you,  dear  Leonore.    Of  this  be  assured.     Eat  you  cnn- 


THE   JTOTTSF.   EEIIIXT)   THE   TOPLAUS.  321 

not  { sei've  or  save'  mo.  No  ono  can  do  that.  I  never  know,  before, 
what  it  was  to  wish  for  any  one's  de:»th  !  God  forgive  me !" 

"  Then  you  do  not  love  h'm,  Julr.  Thank  Heaven  for  that.  Do 
you  know  who  he  really  and  truly  is  ?'' 

"  Yes.     Do  you  ?" 

"Too  well,  too  well !  IIow  fortunafe  Lisle  had  gone  before  he 
c  ime  here  !" 

"  He  has  been  near  here  day  after  day,  Leonore,  and  you  may  be 
sir.  e  he  had  by  some  means  apprised  himself  of  Lisle  departure, 
before  he  so  boldly  appeared.  I  did  not  tell  him  of  it,  you  may 
rest  Hssured.  Why  should  I  ?" 

"Oh,  Julie,  ha  i  we  only  been  the  sist  TS  we  should  have  been  all 
this  time  !  How  could  I  know  that  I  might  aid  you,  when  I  so 
little  thought  you  interested  in  him  !  Why  does  he  pursue  you  if 
you  care  nothing  for  him  ?  Why  do  you  submit  to  bo  persecuted  by 
his  presence,  since  it  must  be  you  alone  who  have  attracted  him 
here  ?" 

"  Ask  me  nothing,  Leonore.     I  cannot  explain." 

"  You  are  not  already  married  to  him  ?  Tell  me,  in  pity,  that 
you  are  not." 

"No  indeed.  Don't  excite  yourself,  Leonore.  What  is  all  this  to 
you  ?" 

"  So  much  that  I  would  give  my  life  to  know  it.  Oh,  Julie,  now 
indeed  do  I  regret  the  conscientious  scruples  that  prevented  me  long 
since  from  winning  your  love  and  confidence!  You  cannot  undcr- 
rtand  why  I  have  ever  restrained  my  own  affection  f-r  you;  but 
lot  me  tell  you  that  my  own  life  was  so  cold  and  da-k  and  unlovely, 
rave  for  the  brightness  Lisle  sheds  upon  it,  that  my  t'utur :  is  .^o 
unassured,  so  involved  in  possible  misfortune  if  not  shame  and  sor- 
row, that  I  dared  not  inflict  upon  you  the  possible  suffering  our 
clos3  affection  mijrht  entail.  The  day  may  come  when  Lisle  will 
icproach  me  for  accepting  his  pi  offered  love,  for  presuming  to  link 
my  destiny  with  his.  If  such  an  hour  should  come,  enough  that  he 
should  upbraid  me  upon  his  own  account,  without  accusing  me  of 
do.iling  dishonorably  and  selfishly  with  you,  whom  hs  loves  as  an 
own  sis*  or  !" 

And  this  was  the  woman  whom  Julie  had  pronounced  destitute 
of  heart  or  impulse!  She  reproached  herself  with  the  memory  of 
the  words,  and  answered  earnestly, 

"  Could  I  but  have  read  your  generous  heart !  How  could  I  know 
that  you  needed  my  sisterly  love  and  sympathy?  you  io  calm  and 
proud,  evidently  so  happy.  I  was  but  a  guest  in  the  house  of  which 


322  TUB  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

you  were  mistress,  but  a  ward  of  him  who  is  your  husband.  I  think 
I  should  never  have  presumed  to  kiss  you,  had  not  a  joyful  surprise 
impelled  me.  Do  you  remember  the  time  ?" 

"  Peifectly  !  Now  let  me  tell  you,  Julie  ;  calm  and  proud  as  you 
think  me,  I  am  neither.  Happy  I  am,  despite  the  most  dire  forc- 
I  odings  that  ever  tortured  mortal.  But  of  the  house  of  which  I  am 
the  acknowledged  mistress,  I  feel  less  real  proprietorship  than  any 
being  in  it.  Were  Lisle  to  bid  me  leave  it  to-morrow,  without  a 
penny,  I  should  go  feeling  that  I  had  no  right  to  complain.  In 
short,  nothing  is  mine  save  on  sufferance !" 

"  You  will  tell  me  next  that  Lisle  himself  is  not  your  husband,'1 
Julie  interposed  stopping  her  lips  with  one  hand. 

"No,  not  that,  thank  God !  He  is  mine,  by  every  tie  human  and 
divine.  But  what  would  even  this  avail  me  were  his  love  to  cease?" 
She  stopped  by  an  effort,  and  then  resumed  in  a  changed  tone. 
"  But  don't  let  us  talk  of  mys-  If.  It  is  of  you  and  you  alone  I  want 
to  think  now.  Tell  me  where  you  met  that  man  !'' 

"  Leonard  Horton,  for  so  he  called  himself,  was  introduced  to  mo 
the  summer  I  was  at  Niagara  with  the  Sandforcb.  I  need  not  tell 
you  that  had  I  at  first  known  who  he  really  was,  I  never  would  have 
received  him  as  an  acquaintance.  But  I  did  not.  He  was  well  re- 
ceived in  other  circles,  Mrs.  Sandford  approved  of  his  attentions,  he 
certainly  was  agreeable,  and  we  became  very  intimate.  He  told  me 
the  truth,  afterward,  and  certainly  there  is  much  to  mitigate  the 
enormity  of  his  crime,  even  had  he  not  since  made  a  restitution 
qui;e  Quixotic  in  its  generosity." 

"  Which  he  well  knew  would  cost  him  nothing,  a^  Lisle  never 
would  have  received  it,  even  had  not  the  amount  been  willed  him 
by  Mr.  Fitzjames.  It  was  returned  to  him  through  the  same  mys- 
terious channel  by  which  it  was  received,  so  tint  he  lu  s  won  his  lau- 
rels cheaply." 

"Nevertheless,  he  made  the  reparation  in  good  faith,  and  I  exon- 
erate h'un.1' 

"  Who  knows  even  how  he  obtained  that  money  ?  I  have  known 
him  to  steal — I  believe  he  would  murder  !'' 

" Leonore !  You  so  good  and  gentle;  how  can  you  say  such 
things?  He  is  nothing  to  y^u  ;  yju  might  be  generous,  or  at  lea^t 
just,  toward  him." 

'•  I  tell  you,  Julie,  he  is  an  adder  who  ghoul i  be  crushed  ;  a  villain 
un  whipped  of  justice,  but  who  will  assuredly  yet  c  une  to  retribution. 
Years  ago  I  knew  him  well,  better  than  you  know  him  now,  and  I 
teH  you  I  hate  him  with  till  the  strength  of  my  soul !" 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   XHK   POPLA11S.  o2J 

"  Sec,  then,  how  prejudiced  a  judge  you  must  be.  Do  you  consider, 
too,  that  what  one  person  thinks  a  positive  crimu,  is  to  another  only 
a  venial  error  ?" 

Leoiiore  groaned  aloud  as  she  realized,  how  futile  were  her  efforts. 
As  yi  t  Julie  had  not  acknowledged  her  engagement.  How  could 
slie  account  for  her  own  knowledge  of  its  existence  without  exciting 
suspicions  which  even  now  might  be  uselessly  aroused  in  Julie's  mind 
aga'nst  her.  Louis'  threats  rang  in  her  ears  menacingly.  Suppose, 
too.  she  were  but  to  sacrifice  herself,  and  accomplish  nothing ;  since 
J  ulie's  generosity  seemed  wide  enough  to  cover  all  things.  Despite 
her  efforts,  bordering  even  upon  imprudence  toward  herself,  she  had 
gained  at  best  but  a  divided  confidence,  since  Julie  did  not  even 
confers  those  interviews  in  the  summer-house.  There  remained  but 
one  appeal,  and  she  staked  her  hope  upon  it. 
"  And  poor  Edward — what  of  him  ?" 

Her  lips  trembled  but  made  no  reply,  and  Leoiiore  continued, 
''You  will  not  sacrifice  him,  however  you  may  throw  away  your 
own  chances  of  linppiness.  What  will  he  s  ty  if  you  ever  become  tho 
•wife  of  Louis  Hartley  ?  What  must  he  think  of  one  who  would  vol- 
untarily sacrifice  him  to  one  so  every  way  his  inlerior.  You  cannot, 
Julie,  you  will  not." 

''  Suppose  I  had  promised,  long  since — before  Edward  was  any- 
thing to  me  or  I  to  him.     Can  I  be  false  to  avow  voluntarily  given  f> 
"  Will  you  be  false  to  your  word,  or  to  your  heart?     How  would 
Hartley  himself  receive  your  marriage  vows  at  such  a  price?1' 

The  words  raised  the  first  dawn  of  hope.  If  indeed  he  were  to 
break  the  engagement  himself  when  he  knew  all !  She  had  changed , 
fche  loved  him  no  more.  She  had  sworn  to  him  that  she  would  abide 
by  her  promise  to  him  ;  but  if  he  flung  it  back  upon  her  inconstant: 
heart,  she  at  least  was  guiltless  of  perjuring  herself  to  the  letter  of 
her  vow,  and  certainly  nothing  more  remained. 

Leonore  saw  that  her  thoughts  were  running  in  the  channel  she  to 
much  desired,  and  did  not  interrupt  them  by  a  woid.  Jiuio  herself 
broke  the  silence  with  a  sarcastic  little  laugh. 

"Things  have  come  to  a  sad  pass  when  right  and  wrong  are  so 
confused  that  one  can't  decide  which  is  the  right !  I  suppose  I  may 
console  myself,  that,  if  there  be  any  truth  in  Lisle's  preaching,  as  a 
woman,  I  haven't  to  sustain  any  great  reputation  for  either  constancy, 
honesty,  or  conscience  !  You  don't  know,  Leonore,  how  I  have  al- 
ways despised  those  silly,  capricious  women  who  never  know  their 
'  own  minds  two  hours  in  succession ;  arul  now  to  become  one  of  them !" 
'  I  have  known  peop  e  to  break  their  hearts  for  a  principle  ;  but  I 


324  THE  UOCSK  uEinxn  THE  POPLARS. 

have  yet  to  learn  that  the  sacrifice  proved  to  their  lasting  happiness 
when  at  best  the  principle  was  quest  onable.  I  think  that  it  one  is 
true  to  one's  owusulf,  one  cm  hardly  be  f:ilse  to  any  real  principle 
•worthy  the  name.  When  the  li  t  of  so  called  '  martyrs  '  com ^9  to  be 
read  over  in  the  grand  summing  up,  many  a  one  will  be  found  to  have 
been  only  a  bigot  or  a  f  inatic." 

Julie  was  not  in  a  rein  to  appreciate  philosophy  in  the  abstract, 
and  she  broke  in  upon  it  wi'h  an  abrupt  query, 

"  But,  suppos ;,  after  all,  Louis  should  hold  me  to  niy  word  ?" 

<:He  is  quite  capable  of  doing  so  should  he  be  influenced  by 
pique.  It  only  remains  for  you  then  to  sacrilic •!  a  principle  of  ac- 
tion to  a  real  moral  right;  for  what  irhall  be  taid  in  judgment  upon 
a  woman  who  marries  without  affection,  who  makes  a  solemn  vow 
to  love,  honor,  and  cherish,  where  she  does  not  even  respect  1 
Rather  than  see  you  fall  to  low  as  this,  I  will  make  any  sacrifice, 
even  of  myself.  I  will  trust  everything  to  your  honor,  Julie,  every- 
thing." 

Julie  answered  the  earnest  appeal  with  a  sisterly  caress. 

"Let  us  talk  no  more  of  it,  dear  Leonore.  Shake-peire  tells  of 
'  keeping  the  word  of  promise  to  the  ear,  and  breaking  it  to  the 
hope.'  I  cannot  believe  that  any  one  would  deliberately  choose  to 
be  so  dealt  with  by  another,  and  I  will  hope  for  the  b.  st.  The  most 
immediate  perplexity  is  how  to  receive  Louis,  since  he  is  really  here 
and  certainly  will  seek  to  renew  old  acquaintance.  I  do  not  ask 
you  anything  of  your  acquaintar.ee  with  him,  except,  was  it  su-h 
that  you  can  again  meet  him  without  pain  ?" 

''Certainly.  I  dislike  him,  but  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should 
shun  him.  He  will  assuredly  assume  the  right  to  visit  you,  and  I 
have  no  authority  to  forbid  him." 

Later  in  the  day  the  expected  card  WP.S  received,  and  Julie  de- 
scended formally  !o  the  parlor.  He  awaite  1  her,  hat  in  hand,  as 
though  anticipating  a  summons  to  the  private  purl  -r,  and  when  he 
rea.i/.e  1  that  it  was  not  accorded  to  him,  he  said  with  sarcastic 
humor, 

"I  am  very  happy  to  be  so  confident! >lly  received,  Miss  Julie.  I 
felt  assured  of  a  warm  welcome,  as  indeed  why  not?'' 

"  I  regret  that  you  aro  dissatisfied  with  your  reception.  It  would, 
perhap>,  have  been  better  to  have  remained  away  until  you  were  in- 
vited to  come?' 

"That  remark  is  Very  like  you — of  late.     Thank  you." 

"  Louis,  if  you  re  dly  desire^a  quarrel,  I  will  oblige  you.  Why  do 
you  ceaselessly  reproach  me  without  reflecting  tha.t  YOU  aro  in  the 


THE    HOUSE   BEHIXL)   THE    TOPLAR3.  325 

wiong?  Why  do  you.  meet  me  witli  taunrs  in  place  of  kindness? 
why  do  you  ceaselessly  disobey  my  known  wishes,  an  I  insist  upon 
forcing  yourself  upon  me  when  I  do  not  choose  to  receive  you  ? 
There  was  a  time  when  you  were  gentle,  kind,  and  lovable,  and 
theu  you  were  always  welcome." 

"  I  can  hardly  rec.ul  such  a  time.     It  was  long  ago." 

"  Have  I  not  m<:t  you  day  alter  day  despite  my  fear  of  our  meet- 
ings being  observed  and  commented  upon  ?" 

"I  remember  you  did  Siem  oveij  >yed  thj  first  time  I  joined  you 
on  the  boaoh,"  lie  said  bitterly. 

'•I  admit  ihat  I  was  not.  The  surprise  was  even  painful,  from 
attendant  circumstances,  as  will  it  might  be.  But  this  is  the  first 
time  I  ever  heaid  that  the  way  to  woman's  love  and  confidence  was 
by  ceaseless  fault-finding  and  reproach." 

"Admitted;  what  then?  Is  a  man  to  endure  all  tilings  in  si- 
lence ?  Do  you  pretend  to  tell  me  that  you  are  unchanged  since  we 
parted  one  ye  ir  ago  at  Niagara  ?'' 

"  No.  I  confess  that  I  am  changed.  Does  it  follow  that  up- 
braiding will  accomplish  anything." 

"  Oh,  Julie,  I  told  you  this  would  follow  our  separation  !  Why 
were  \ve  not  married  when  you  loved  me,  or  professed  to  do  so." 

''  Because  we  had  not  my  guardian's  consent,  and  for  one  certain 
reason  could  not  expect  it  then." 

"  And  now  ?     What  can  I  do  that  I  have  not  already  done  ?'' 

"Nothing,  as  far  r.s  he  is  concerned.  The  responsibility  now  lies 
wi'h  me.  1  ha\e  not  told  you  that  I  will  not  fulfill  my  promise  to 
you  at  the  time  I  named.  I  meant  to  do  so  when  I  told  you  I 
would,  and  my  heait  was  with  my  words.  But  tell  me,  Lou:s,  how 
dl  i  you  think  to  keep  my  affection  for  you  bright  and  warm  during 
the  long  months  of  unbroken  silence  you  observed  toward  ine  hi 
pique  for  my  failure  to  keep  the  last  appointment  I  named  in  tha 
snminer-hou-e,  and  which  you  told  nu  recently  you  believed  I  inten- 
tionally broke?  You  could  have  written  me  one  word  had  you  so 
chi.sen;  I  expected  this,  and  sho  ild  have  replied." 

''Yet  you  consoled  yourself  very  happily  for  my  neglect.  The 
iiewlove  sped  all  the  faster  for  the  lack  of  interruption  from  the 
old." 

*'  Yes,  you  dared  to  place  a  spy  upon  my  actions,  maintained  with 
that  spy  a  correspondence  you  did  not  attempt  with  me.  It  was 
through  this  Joseph  Perkins  that  you  learned  of  my  very  presence 
here,  where  you  su  Idenly  met  me  with  recriminations,  and  where 


323  T1IE   HOUSE   BEHIND   TlIE   POPLAU3. 

you  remain  despite  my  protests  and  the  constant  embarrassments  you 
subject  uie  to.     What,  do  you  expect  to  g.dii  by  remaining  ?" 

"  The  charm  of  your  society,  fair  Julb,  if  not  that  of  the  most 
amiable  Mrs.  Sterling,  who  may  possible  aid  me  in  my  suit." 

"  You  need  not  think  it.  She  is  the  Leonore  Wake-field  whom 
you  once  knew,  and  she  has  not  forgotten  you.'' 

"  Did  she  te.l  you  so '?" 

"Yes,  and  much  more." 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  anything  she  can  tell,  and  that  it  was  very 
little  your  manner  convinces  me.  Julie,  of  what  tue  is  all  this 
sparring  ?:' 

He  took  her  hand  as  she  spoke  more  kindly,  but  she  withdrew  it 
with  a  darted  glance  around  the  parlor,  which  chanced  to  be  quite 
deserted  at  tiie  moment,  the  little  party  who  had  occupied  it  having 
gone  out  upon  the  gallery,  unobserved  by  her. 

Louis  re  ented  the  action,  and  murmured  bitterly, 

"  So.  Not  even  your  hand,  pledged  to  ine  as  it  is.  Banished 
fi  oiu  your  society,  forbidden  even  such  favors  as  you  would  extend  to 
your  indifierent  acquaintances,  you  bid  me  be  satisfied  and  content ! 
Julie,  you  forget  that  I  am  mortal  and  that  I  love  you  !" 

"  You  proved  it  by  employing  a  spy  to  watch  me." 

"  You  will  insist  upon  this,  Julie  ?'' 

"I  insist  because  I  know  it.  I  knew  Joseph  was  watching  me, 
ceaselessly,  and  I  was  foolish  enough  to  think  it  from  idle  curiosity, 
till  your  intimate  knowledge  of  my  movements  taught  me  better, 
1  never  will  forgive  it,  never  !  It  was  adding  insult  to  neglect." 

lie  saw  that  he  should  gain  nothing  by  discussing  the  subject 
and  he  said  with  pait.ut  resignation, 

''  Assume  what  you  will,  since  you  delight  in  being  unjust  to  me. 
Oaly  tell  me  what  you  wish,  and  see  if  I  can  accomplish  it." 

"  I  want  but  one  thing ;  to  be  released  from  our  engagement.  1 
cannot  ratify  it,  I  have  no  moral  right  to  do  so.  Release  me  and  I 
will  be  grateful  to  you  forever." 

'•  Julie,  has  it  in.leed  come  to  this  ?    You  no  longer  love  me  !'' 

She  looked  her  affirmation  of  the  doubt,  and  for  awhile  both  were 
silent.  Then  he  said  gently, 

"  Is  it  that  you  merely  love  tne  no  more,  or  has  another  taken  my 
place  in  your  heart ':''' 

'•  What  does  it  matter,  since  I  do  not  wish  to  marry  you  ?  I  ain 
here  not  to  be  questioned,  but  to  ask  cne  last  favor,  the  greatest; 
you  can  grant  me.  Give  me  back  niy  free  Join,  and  I  will  be  your 
friend  forever." 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND    THE   POPLARS.  327 

"Edward  Sterling  is  very  gallant  and  hind  ome.  I  prophesied 
that  his  suit  would  not  be  in  vain.  But  Julie,  I  will  not  resign  my 
claim,  to  any  living  being.  I  cannot  do  it.  It  is  too  much  to  ask  !" 

She  started  and  her  face  flushed  angrily  as  she  asked, 

"  You  will  not  ?" 

"Yes  if  you  insist  upon  the  repetition;  I  nover  will  release  you 
from  year  vow,  and  you  dare  not  break  it." 

"Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that.  I  may  deem  it  the  I'-sser  wrong  of 
two." 

"  Nover,  Jali ".  You  are  c  ipricious  and  fickle,  like  all  your  sex. 
But  you  will  not  bieak  a  solemn  pledge  given  to  one  who  trusts  you 
implicitly,  who  believes  in  your  honor  if  he  doubts  your  love." 

It  was  a  direct  appeal  to  the  creed  that  governed  her,  an  echo  of 
the  argument  ceaselessly  urged  by  conscience,  and  she  was  silent  un- 
der it.  Was  it  not  enough  that  she  should  be  false  at  heart,  without 
adding  real  perjury.  His  words  had  their  efi'ect  even  while  she  re- 
sented the  tyranny  that  prompted  them ;  and  at  last  she  replied 
coldly, 

"You  know  that  your  appeal  to  my  honor  and  truthfulness  is 
enough.  You  may  thus  compel  me  to  fulfill  my  promise  so  far  as 
the  strict  letter  of  it  is  concerned,  but  I  tell  you  its  spirit  is  dead.  I 
can  neither  love  nor  respect  you  as  a  wife  should  do,  and  I  leave 
you  to  imagine  what  our  home  will  be  without  this.  It' you  will  b  : 
a  jailor  for  life,  go  learn  a  turnkey's  duties.  There  is  ample  time 
for  you  to  perfect  yourself  in  them,  as  six  months  of  comparative 
freedom  yet  remain  to  me.'' 

"  Be  as  bitter  as  you  choose,  Julie.  I  endure  it  now,  satisfied  that 
some  day  you  will  beg  me  for  pardon.  It  is  not  in  a  spirit  of  tyranny 
that  I  claim  the  fulfillment  of  your  vow,  since  I  am  sure  that  you  will 
love  mo  again  as  you  did  when  you  made  it.  As  your  hu  band  I 
will  distance  all  rivals,  even  Edward  himself.  How  many  wives 
have  you  known,  in  lifl'erent  upon  thi  ir  marriage  day  to  the  hus- 
bands they  accepted,  yet  learning  after  to  idolize  them:'  That  is  a 
tale  which  repeats  itself  week  after  week,  and  year  afier  year." 

"  I  congratulate  you  upon  the  self- improvement  you  must  medi- 
t  ,te." 

"  You  are  pleased  to  be  ironical.  Very  well,  if  you  were  to  tell 
me  that  you  hate  me,  as  I  have  little  doubt  you  do  at  times,  my  re- 
solution would  remain  the  same.  You  have  told  me  that  nothing 
should  prevent  our  marriage,  and  I  repeat  it ;  nothing  shall." 

'*  Very  well.  But- since  you  so  firmly  announce  your  resolution, 
hear  mine.  During  this  half  ye  ir  that  yet  remains  to  me,  I  will  not 


0-8  THE    HOUSE   CR1IIXU   THE 

be  persecuted  by  you.  You  shall  leave  me  to  seek  happiness  in  any 
way  I  may  choose,  ci  as :  to  annoy  me  by  attentions  that  are  disagree- 
able to  me.  an  I  above  all,  our  engagement  shall  remain  a  profound 
secret.  I  will  not  be  toitured  by  arguments  and  rcmonsf ranees  from 
my  best  friends  which  I  am  powerless  to  answer  or  yield  to." 

"  To  so  much  I  consent.  I  will  not  press  my  attentions  upon  you 
in  public,  I  will  ass  -rt  no  claim  upon  you.  But  I  will  not  go  away 
from  you  and  leave  Edward  Sterling  to  fill  my  place,  however  much 
you  desire  it.  I  shall  remain  as  near  you  as  po.-sible,  I  will  know 
all  that  interests  you,  though  I  will  be  silent  unless  you  force  me  to 
protest.  But  lememb jr  I  will  endure  no  flirtations !" 

"  I  never  flirted  in  my  life  !" 

"  Well,  I  ndmit  that  where  real  love  exists  flirtation  does  not.  1 
will  amend  my  protest,  and  avow  that  I  will  submit  to  no  lovemak- 
ing." 

"  Ugh  !  What  a  detestable  wretch  !"  she  exclaimed  with  a  shrug 
of  her  pretty  shoulders,  and  a  contemptuous  look." 

Louis  laughed.  "  You  are  quite  bewitching  when  you  are  angry j 
Julie.  Blondes  are  apt  to  look  in-ipid  For  that  very  reason  one 
<if  them  in  a  real  sto:ni  is  ines  stbly  fa-cinating,  from  the  contrast. 
Now,  silica  we  quit  •  understand  each  o  her,  let  us  chat  a  little.  Who 
h:iv  you  here  emei  tuning,  beautiful,  or  witty  ?  Any  pretty  girls  r" 

"  There  are  no  Miss  Phebo  Yenards,  as  at  Niagara.  Heiresses  and 
captivating  young  anthoress2s  are  not  met  every  day.'' 

'•  By  the  way,  are  the  VenarcU  stopping  here  any  relatives  of 
hers  ?" 

"  The  lady  whom  you  saw  at  breakfast  with  us  is  her  sister-in- 
hw." 

'<  So  I  suspected.  She  looks  strong-minded,  though  decidedly 
stylish." 

''  How  glad  she  would  be,  did  she  know  you  so  approve  her  !" 

"  Oil,  I  will  tell  her  of  it.  Never  fear.  Of  course  you'll  present 
me  ?" 

"•  .f  she  so  request.  Really,  ']\Ir.  Leonard  Ilorton,'  you  are  a  most 
modest  and  unassuming  gentleman,  and  b-;yond  doubt  very  agreea- 
ble. But  you  must  excuse  me  for  pic  tding  o'.her  eng.igements,  as  a 
bar  to  sin  extended  visit  wit'.i  you,  a-id  allow  1113  to  wish  you  a  very 
good  nuvninu:,''  and  with  a  mock  r.  veren'ial  courtesy,  she  left  him. 

Once  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  room,  her  courage  and  defiance 
vanished,  and  sinking  upon  the  sofa  she  gave  way  to  a  girl  sh  lit  of 
weeping.  She  reproached  herself  for  her  weakness  in  withholding 
all  from  Edward,  while  she  had  permitted  him  day  by  day  to  win 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLARS.  o-J 

hia  place  more  securely  in  a  heart  dedicated  to  another.  II  id  GU-J 
only  confe.-sed  all  upon  that  day  when  she  lei"  the  impulse  to  do  to 
and  was  too  weak  to  o:  ey  it !  How  weak  ;,nd  wicked  she  h  id 
been,  and  what  a  bitter  penalty  she  was  to  pay  for  it.  Her  punirih- 
was  greater  than  she  deserved,  but  she  bore  it  bravely.  Leonoro 
turned  her  eager  eyes  upon  her  in  vain.  She  eluded  their  ques- 
tioning gaze,  and,  too  delicate  to  ask  what  was  withheld  from  her, 
Leonore  remained  in  ignorance  of  that  ratification  of  the  compact, 
which  she  knew  had  become  hateful,  and  believed  had  been  broki  n. 
Everything  seemed  to  confirm  this  belief.  Louis  Hartley  still  re- 
mained, it  was  true  ;  but  his  intercourse  with  Julie  was  confined 
within  the  bounds  of  the  mo^t  formal  politeness,  while  her  deport- 
ment toward  him  was  one  of  complete  indifference,  bordering  at 
times  upon  actual  discourte>y  when  some  little  a  tentiou  more  mark- 
ed than  ordinary,  was  offered  by  him. 

A  casual  introduction,  scarcely  to  be  avoided,  had  placed  him 
upon  speaking  terms  with  Leonore,  who  till  then  had  not  once  rcc- 
ogniz  d  him,  but  she  did  not  present  him  to  her  immediate  circle, 
although  bantered  to  do  so  by  some  of  the  younger  ladies  who  were 
attracted  by  his  handsome  faca  and  figure,  and  his  courtly  manners. 
Mrs.  Vcnard  had  not  ceased  to  observe  him  critically,  and,  entrap- 
ped into  the  presentation  despite  her  resolution  to  the  contrary, 
Julie  1  ad  introduced,  them.  A  sudden  memory  had  flashed  across 
the.  lady's  m'.iid  a?  she  acknowledged  his  salute,  and  &he  said  ab- 
ruptly, 

"  '  Horton.'  That  is  the  name  of  Phebe's  husband ;  don't  you  re- 
member, Miss  Julie?" 

"I  never  heard  it.  I  knew  merely  that  she  was  married.  Per- 
haps Mr.  Horton  himself  may  enlighten  us.  I  remember  he  was  one 
ot  Miss  Venard's  favorites  last  year,  at  Niagara." 

He  bowed  profoundly,  as  he  smilingly  replied, 

"  I  am  one  of  a  numerous  though  not  illustrious  family,  and  it  is 
not  impossible  that  some  relative  may  have  received  the  honor  to 
which  I  dared  not  aspire.  I  should  be  happy  indeed  to  know  it,  for 
I  admired  Miss  Phebe,  vastly." 

The  int  nded  taunt  was  powerless  now ;  it  was  a  malter  of  utter 
in  cliff,  rence  to  Julie  whom  he  admired  in  the  past  and  present,  and 
her  look  expressed  it.  Bowing  his  adieu,  Louis  joined  Leonore  at 
the  piano  where  she  was  about  to  play  in  obedience  to  the  usual  re- 
quest. She  was  thinking  of  him,  even  as  he  approached  her,  won- 
dering if  he  would  remain  and  meet  Lisle  upon  his  arrival  the  nest 


330  THE   HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB  POPLARS. 

day.     As  Louis  bent  over  her  to  arrange  her  music  on  the  piano 
rack,  she  said  quickly  tmd  low, 

"Lisle  will  bo  here  to-morrow  evening.'' 

<c  I  congratulate  you.  1  have  no  doubt  you  are  a  most  affection- 
ate pair." 

"  Go  away,  for  mercy's  sake,  go  away.     He  hate?,  as  I  detest  you." 

"  You  are  cruel,  fair  Leonore;  or  is  this  indeed  a  proof  of  some 
interest  in  my  welfare  ?" 

She  struck  the  opening  chords  of  the  music  as  the  sarcastic  ques- 
tion fell  upon  her  ear,  nnd  her  calm  face  betrayed  no  evidence  of 
one  5-poken  word.  Louis  said  softly,  again  bending  near, 

"  You  are  wrong  to  spurn  me  as  you  do.  It  were  mucli  better  we 
should  be  friends.  You  cannot  afford  to  quarrel  with  me,  Leonore  I1' 

"  I  cannot  endure  your  presence.     Anything  rather  than  that." 

"  Well,  I  shall  relieve  you  of  it  to-morrow,  since  you  ask  me  to  go. 
But  I  shall  return,  and  I  prophesy  we  shall  yet  become  friends. 
Lisle  and  I  seem  bound  to  alternate,  '  two  buckets  in  a  well.'  I  to- 
day, him  to-morrow." 

Some  covert  sarcasm  lurked  beneath  his  words,  for  they  stung 
her  through  all  her  armor  of  pride,  and  she  bit  her  lip  so  sharply 
and  suddenly,  tliat  a  red  moisture  filled  the  wound  her  teeth  had 
made. 

Louis  saw  it,  and  he  said  with  half  ironical  pity, 

''Ah,  foolish  bird,  that  wounds  itself  with  every  flutter!  "Why 
will  it  beat  its  powerless  wings  against  the  hand  whose  caress  it 
once  suffered,  and  which  at  any  hour  could  crush  it." 

"  In  Heaven's  name  what  do  you  want  of  me  ?"  she  asked  impetu- 
ously, while  she  mechanically  played  on. 

"  I  will  tell  you  when  I  return.  Lisle  will  not  remain  long>  r 
than  usual,  will  he  ?  When  will  he  leave  you  ?" 

"  By  Monday's  steamer." 

Not  another  word  passed  between  them  till  the  music  ceased,  and 
then  he  politely  brought  her  a  chair,  and  left  her  with  her  friends. 
She  looked  after  h.iu  as  he  walked  carel  s4y  down  the  room, 
strange  throbbing  moved  her  heart.  It  was  a  singular  effect  of  his 
presence,  that  rebellious  as  she  was  against  his  power  over  her, 
defiantly  as  she  commenced- each  conversation  with  him,  he  quieted 
an  1  subdued  her  at  last,  and  bent  her  to  his  will  as  he  would  havo 
bent  a  pliant  reed  in  his  white  hand.  Menacing,  i" suiting  as  he 
was,  his  gentler  tones  awoke  strange  echoes  in  her  heait,  and  she 
felt  that  she  was  less  conquered  than  yielding.  In  her  most  bilker 
momenta  she  would  ha'vo  dared  even  the  ruin  with  which  he 


"THE   110  VSE   BE111NI)   TUB   POi'LARS.  331 

threatened  her,  and  she  scorned  the  idea  of  owing  anything  to  his 
generosity.  Out  of  the  mesmeric  power  of  his  presence  this  was 
her  ruling  instinct.  Yet  when  witli  him,  this  generosity  was  not 
hateful  to  her,  and  she  supplicated  for  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

LISLE  and  Edward  came  together  by  the  next  day's  boat,  and  the 
quiet  Sabbath  succeeding  was  one  of  unmixed  happiness  to  Lisle 
and  Leonore,  who  met  more  like  lovers  than  like  a  married  pair  who 
had  sedately  walked  the  path  of  life  together  for  a  whole  year. 

"Have  you  missed  me  very  much,  little  fellow?"  Lisle  asked 
smoothing  her  hair  with  a  touch  more  affectionate  than  artistic. 

She  looked  up  with  an  assuring  smile  despite  her  retort. 

"  Cruel  boy,  to  ask  such  a  question  after  having  deserted  ine ! 
Have  you  missed  me  1  and  how  are  they  all  at  home  ?" 

"  Wonderfully,  and  wonderfully  well ;  to  answer  both  your  ques- 
tions in  one  breath.  Selim  sent  you  a  respectful  whinny  of  regard, 
and  the  Infant,  '  which  likewise  is  well,  begged  to  be  remembered,' 
if  I  may  presume  to  imitate  her  own  phraseology.  The  virtuous 
Joseph  is  petitioning  me  to  receive  him  back  into  our  service.  You'll 
be  glad  to  know  his  affection  is  thus  unaltered.'' 

"If  he  '  is  petitioning,'1  L  conclude  you  haven't  yet  yielded." 

"I  told  him  I  would  leave  you  to  decide;  at  which  his  elation 
was  evident.  It  isn't  every  man  who  relies  upon  a  feminine  to  such 
an  extent  as  he  docs  in  you.  Truth  to  confess,  the  Infant  came  at 
me  first  with  her  woman's  weapons  of  tears  and  protests.  '  He  is 
her  husband,  it  is  her  duty  to  follow  him,  she  borrows  '.rouble  about 
him,'  and  all  that.  Why  is  it  that  however  wretched  a  man  and  his 
wife  may  be  together,  they  are  more  miserably  wretched  under  a 
separation  ?" 

"  Don't  ask  me.  Haven't  you  been  a  victim  to  matrimony  as  long 
as  I  have  ?  What  dU  you  learn  of  Bill  and  Melissa  ?" 

"  More  than  enough.  They  are  quite  worrying  the  old  dame's 
life  out.  Bill  is  more  than  suspected  of  knowing  too  much  about 
certain  missing  portable  property  belonging  to  various  citizens,  and 
Joseph  spends  too  much  time  in  the  charming  society  of  his  step- 
daughter, to  please  either  the  Infant  or  the  marital  stepson-in-law — 
a  double  and  twisted  relationship  that,  but  it's  one  of  Joseph's  own 
inventing.  You  see  why  poor  Mrs.  Perkins  wants  him  back  under 
surveillance." 


332  THE  EorSE   BEUIXD  THE  FOFLAttS. 

"  You  won't  take  him  back,  Lisle?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so,  ns  your  e  pecial  valet  de  place.  You  see  one  is 
morally  responsible  for  the  vagabonds  one  makes,  an. I  as  no  oue  else 
•will  have  him  around,  I  must." 

"  Lisle,  I  will  not  have  him  back  agai  i." 

"  Oh.  indeed,  if  it  conies  to  that — " 

"  It  has  come  to  that.     I  never  was  more  in  earnest" 

It  was  an  unprecedented  assertion  of  her  will,  and  he  yielded  to 
it  at  once. 

"  I'll  crush  his  hopes  the  instant  I  return.  I  will  tell  him  you 
have  censed  to  protect  him,  and  tbat  I  ani  to  obey  your  commands 
or  leave  the  premises." 

She  did  not  so  much  as  smile,  and  seeing  that  the  topic  was  dis- 
tas  eful  to  her,  lie  abruptly  changed  it. 

'•  Have  your  fine  lady  friends  forgiven  my  apostrophe  to  the  sex?" 

••  I  d.^n't  know  ;  I  fancy  not.  It  seems  to  me  some  of  them  are 
ceaselessly  on  the  watch  to  discover  the  secret  sins  in  my  chaructei 
•which  have  so  embittered  my  husband." 

«;  What  a  guilty  conscience  you  must  have,  Loonore.  Fie,  for 
shame  !  However,  if  you  are  convinced  that  this  is  anything  more 
th  ni  imaginary,  let  them  work  away.'' 

-  I  don't  fancy  it.  I  assure  you !  It  isn't  pleasant  to  be  considered 
a  persecutor  of  one's  husband." 

X  Misense.  If  they  ever  realize  their  hopes  they  will  all  have 
husbanus  of  their  own,  and  then  they'll  know  that  cM  wives  are 
persecutors.  I  don't  want  you  annoyed,  but  if  they  muke  this  an 
unpleasant  abiding  place,  perhaps  you  will  come  back  home.  I 
couldn't  live  here  all  summer  to  s  »ve  my  life.1' 

••  I've  a  mind  to  tell  you  what  Mrs.  Bertram  said  of  your  «hronic 
restlessness  w:>en  she  found  you  had  really  left  us." 

1  it  of  course.     I've  quite  a  respect  for  that  lady's  opinions, 
irreverent  as  they  sometimes  .are    towards  those  who    demand 
:ice.'' 

•said,  'if  Lisle  Sterling  had  been  the  script  ural  Prod  igal  Son, 
it  would  have  been  a  useless  job  to  kill  that  fatted  calf,  for  he  would 
l.ave  changed  his  mind  :md  run  away  a_rain  before  it  could  be  dished 

'•Very  likely.  I  never  liked  veal,  at  b?st.  But  hovr  long  cau 
you  cont.-nt  yourself  here  ?" 

"  As  long  as  Ju'.ie  so  much  enioys  rem  lining.  The  close,  doll 
cry  is  no  place  for  her  during  these  stifling  months.'' 

"  I  can  imagine  something  how  the  parents  of  grown-up  daughters 


THli  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLA.US.  333 

feel,  compelled  to  suffer  all  sorts  of  inconveniences  fill  some  inexpe- 
i it-need  fellow  can  be  entrapped  into  marrying  Eliza  Jane  who 
t quints,  or  Sarah  Ann  who  has  a  pug  nose  !  Since  the  day  '  tender- 
eyed  Leah's'  governor  schemed  to  get  her  off  his  hands,  fathers 
hive  diligently  practised  the  same  trade,  and  mothers  model  their 
tactics  after  those  of  an  old  hen,  who  is  forever  pecking  her  half- 
grown  chickens  on  the  head,  to  drive  them  off." 

'•  Oh,  Lisle,  that's  a  slander !" 

"  I  wish  I  thought  so;  but  I  tell  you  this  world  contains  more 
'Becky  Sharp*  '  than  pretty  women  ever  dre..m  of.  Of  course  the 
pretty  ones  never  become  a  drug  even  in  the  matrimonial  market; 
but  the  ugly  ones,  whether  or  not  they  have  mothers  to  help  them 
off,  are  like  POOL-  'Becky'  who  so  complained,  'compelled  to 
scheme  for  themselves.'  As  for  Julie,  she  can't  do  better  than  to 
marry  Ed,  for  whom  half  the  young  ladies  are  doing  their  prettiest, 
and  it  is  strange  she  doesn't  realize  it.  By  the  way,  she  is  looking 
melancholy.  What  ails  her?" 

"  Imagination  again,  Lisle.  She  is  as  blithe  and  merry  as  possi- 
ble. She  is  the  life  of  the  drawing-room,  and  universally  popular." 

"  1  suppose,  then,  she  has  only  formed  a  sentimental  attachment 
for  some  one.  This  so-called  '  lovu  happiness '  always  seems  to  me  a 
most  sorry  and  lugubiious  sort.  Love  is  a  disease,  Leouore." 

"Most  sage  conclusion,  and  consoling  for  a  wife  to  hear  from  her 
husband's  lips.  I  should  judge  the  very  announcement  wo  Ad  prove 
a  panacea,"  she  replied,  a  little  hurt. 

He  laughed  as  he  reassured  her. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  1111  an  the  tender  regard  a  husband  has  for  his  wife, 
which  leads  him  to  pay  her  shoe  bills  without  \' rumbling,  and 
chivalrously  to  conceal  the  fact  that  half  her  back  hair  and  several 
of  her  t.  eth  are  false,  and  to  love  and  cherish  her  through  all  these 
infirmities.  I  mean  the  grand  heroic  sentimental  idiosyncrasy,  which 
prompts  one  man  to  worship  at  the  slippers  of  another  man's  wife  to 
the  prejudice  of  his  own,  or  is  even  more  liable  to  attack  the  very 
young  of  both  sexes.  It  is  the  last  of  a  line  of  ailments  of  which 
measles  and  chicken-pox  are  the  predecessors." 

Pew  women  approve  of  treating  the  subject  in  such  irreveieut 
fashion,  and  Leonore's  serious  reception  of  it  proved  her  no  excep- 
tion to  the  general  rule ;  and  feeling  that  his  philosophy  was  unap- 
preciated, Lisle  put  himself  upon  his  best  behavior  for  the  remain- 
der of  the  day,  though  laughingly  protesting  that  it  was  hard  when 
a  man's  o\vn  wife  couldn't  follow  the  highest  flights  of  his  genius 
and  fa-icy.  They  were  left  quite  to  themselves  as  if  by  mutual  con- 


334  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLAB3. 

sent,  even  Edward  and  Julie  leaving  them  undisturbed,  and  wliiling 
away  the  day  as  best  they  might.  At  sunset  they  wandered  out 
upon  the  beach  together,  and  silently  watche  I  the  fadinu  out  of 
the  lust  rose  colored  and  purple  reflections  from  the  water  which  lay 
uiirippled  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

Despite  the  reign  of  peace  and  harmony  around  them,  neither  face 
reflected  the  light  of  happiness,- and  the  sigh  breathed  by  Julie,  was 
responded  to  only  by  a  sudden  and  vigorous  launching  far  out  upon 
[  the  water,  of  the  bright  pebble  Edward  had  been  c  irele-sly  tossing 
and  catching  as  they  strolled  along.  The  ac  ion  seemed  to  have  re- 
awakened his  power  of  speech,  for  he  said  a  little  impatiently, 

"  I  must  confess  that  I  can't  understand  the  fine  points  to  which 
you  attach  such  importance.  You  confess  wh'at  your  manner  long 
since  led  me  to  believe.  Yet  in  the  same  breath  that  you  make  the 
sweet  admission,  you  bid  me  hope  no  more,  tell  me  that  even  this 
must  cease.  I  will  apply  for  canonization,  as  a  martyr  to  feminine 
caprice." 

"It  is  not  caprice,  Edward.  I  have  told  you  that  I  am  engaged 
to  another.  I  have  been  frank  and  truthful  with  you  now,  as  I 
ought  to  have  been  long  since." 

"  And  I  repeat  that  were  you  twenty  times  engaged,  I  would  not 
lose  hope  nor  cease  to  love  you.  You  cannot  forbid  this,  and  I 
don't  see  why  you  should  protest.  You  cannot  love  us  both,  and  I 
believe  every  word  you  ever  uttered  to  me." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  I  tell  you  the  blessed  truth.  I  love  you  unto 
death  !  Yet  the  fact  remains  that  I  am  bound  to  the  fulfillment  of 
a  promise  from  which  I  have  vainly  sought  a  release.  Nothing  but 
death  can  free  me  ;  of  that  I  feel  assured." 

"  I'd  pray  for  a  second  flood  if  I  thought  it  would  sweep  him  out 
of  existence.  But  it  wouldn't,  Julie.  The  children  of  this  nine- 
teenth century  would  ogtwit  the  deluge  itself,  and  every  one  be 
s  lVed — very  likely  patent  the  invention,  after." 

She  smiled  despite  her  seriousness,  but  he  was  grave  and  even 
contemptuous.  '  The  Fitzjnrnes  spirit '  in  which  his  mother  had  de- 
lighted,  was  uppermost,  and  he  was  in  no  humor  to  kiss  the  rod. 

'•  Who  is  this  all  conqueror,  Julie  ?     You  haven't  told  me  that. 
Since  I  know  so  much,  tell  me  all." 
"She  hesitated,  and  then  asked,  flushing  under  the  evasion, 

•'  Do  you  remember  a  gentleman  whom  you  met  at  Niagara  last 
summer,  a  Mr.  Horton,  to  whom  you  were  introduced  ?" 

"  I  thought  so  then !  It  was  plain  to  me  thnt  he  was  your  favored 
lover,  but  I  fancied  distance  and  absence  had  lent  forgetfulness." 


THE  HOUSK  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  335 

"  Edward,  I  must  be  truthful  wit'i  you.  I  am  goin^  to  tell  you 
something  more,  if  you  assure  me  that  you  will  keep  my  confidence 
sacredly.'' 

"  Well,  I  promise  you.  I  have  a  holy  shrinking  from  all  things 
resembling  duty." 

"  This  Mr.  Horton  is  the  Louis  Hartley  of  whom  you  have  heard 
so  much." 

He  raised  hig  eyebrows  and  give  a  little  whistle  of  consternation. 

'•  You  are  surprised,  and  very  naturally,"  she  said  quietly. 

"  No,  not  surprised  at  anything  connected  with  a  love  affair.  The 
evil  one  himself  has  his  admirers,  and  were  he  dressed  in  broad- 
cloth, would  be  a  most  successful  gallant,  I've  no  doubt." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  she  with  patient  resignation. 

"Horton.  or  Hartley,  he  is  a  very  handsome  gentleman,  and 
beauty  goes  far  towards  gaining  favor  in  this  world.  I  make  no 
comments  upbn  his  alias,  as  I  suppose  we  both  know  his  reason  for 
assuming  it.  I  always  believed  him  an  unmitigated  rascal ;  bat  he 
must  have  redeeming  virtues  of  which  I  know  nothing,  or  you 
never  would  have  loved  him. 

She  slipped  her  hand  into  his  and  softly  thanked  him  for  all 
reply.  Hs  bent  along  look  upon  her  of  blended  curiosity,  quizzical- 
ne:s  and  doubt,  then  he  said  dispassionately, 

"  I  wonder  how  much  of  your  verdict  and  acquittal  were  based 
upon  a  dispassionate  analysis  of  his  character  ns  revealed  to  you,  and 
how  much  is  due  to  sweet  words  and  a  pleasing  exterior.  His 
influence  over  you  must  be  strong,  or  the  sentiments  you  hear 
expressed  of  him  so  continually,  would  awaken  real  doubts  in  your 
mind,  and  they  do  not  seem  to  have  done  so.  What  has  kept  you 
f  lithlul  to  him  during  this  whole  year  of  adverse  influences?" 

"  '  Faithful '  is  a  word  most  undeserved.  But  in  so  far  as  I  am 
not  quile  faithless,  I  reply  in  one  word,  Conscience." 

"Well  it  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  of  a  young  lady's  loving 
with  '  conscience.'  Give  him  that  as  long  as  you  choose,  Julie. 
Only  leave  me  the  heart,  and  I  will  take  the  chances  of  winning 
over  the  head.  I  expected,  little  Julie,  that  you  would  be  wooed 
and  won  a  score  of  times  before  you  would  dreim  of  the  mischievous 
boy  who  had  hung  your  doll-babies,  and  practised  amateur  surgery 
upon  your  pets  in  bygone  years.  I  know  now,  that  I  loved  you  even 
then,  and  I  can't  remember  the  day  when  the  hope  of  making  you 
my  wife  was  not  ever  present." 

"  Oh,  Edward,  Edward !    I  am  as  wretched  as  I  can  live  1" 


THE   JiOUsa   B£IUXD   XUK   POPLAE3. 


"Two  lovers  always  make  a  woman  wretched  I  Toll  the  other  to 
K  ave.'' 

"  I  have,  and  lie  won't  go.  But  I'll  worry  his  life  out  if  I  marry 
him  I" 

"  Do.  and  Til  marry  his  widow.  Seriously,  Julie,  do  you  think  it 
less  than  a  positive  sin  to  marry  in  this  way  ?  I  ask  you  most  unself- 
ishly/' 

•'  It  is  a  worse  sin  to  break  a  promise  given  as  solemnly  as  mine  was. 
It  would  be  very  easy  t;  reap  the  reward  of  uiy  own  fickleness,  and 
cry  out  that  all  else  is  wrong  !  I  can't  do  that,  Edward." 

lie  hesitated  to  ask  the  next  question,  but  after  a  pause  did  so. 

"Juii'-,  i>  any  time  named  for  your  marriage?" 

"  Yes,  in  December.     I  promised  that,  six  months  ago." 

"  I  cannot  remain  to  see  it.  I  shall  visit  my  old  home  then, 
where  I  ought  to  have  gone  this  summer,  but  could  not.  Father 
writes  that  mother  will  hardly  live  till  another  spring,  and  is  con- 
stantly begging  that  I  will  go  back  to  her.  I  believe  I  am  the  only 
one  of  all  her  children  whom  she  really  loves,  and  I  ought  to  go  if 
it  will  give  her  any  happiness.  Meantime,  Julie,  let  us  go  on  as  we 
have  done.  If  I  am  to  give  you  up  at  last,  there  is  no  need  to 
ha."  ten  the  hour  of  sacrifice.  We  are  happy  together,  why  should  I 
be  banished  ?" 

"You  sh  ill  not  be.   If  you  are  content,  I  am  a  thousand  times  so." 

'•  Tiu-n  let  us  not  so  much  as  allude  to  your  engagement.  We  shall 
not  be  likely  to  forget  its  existence,  but  I  don't  want  to  hear  it 
mentioned.  I  have  your  love,  if  I  am  not  to  possess  yourself;  and 
I  would  rather  have  it  without  yourself,  th:in  to  many  you  without 
having  that.  I  candidly  think,  little  Julie,  that  if  a  man  is  throughly 
conivncc  that  he  possesses,  entirely,  a  good  woman's  love,  he  may  be 
content  without  asking  one  boon  beyond." 

"  I  can't  ba  so  philosophical.  It  is  dreadful  to  be  completely 
wrapped  up  in  one  and  to  belong  to  another  !" 

She  shivered  as  she  spoke  the  words. 

"Do  you  suppose  Lisle's  consent  can  be  won  to  this  marriage, 
JulU 

"No  ;  it  is  useless  to  expect  it,  and  he  will  be  spared  the  trouble 
of  refusing.  I  don't  intend  to  consult  him  about  it.  It  is  simply  in- 
sulting to  ask  one's  advice  when  the  solicitor  doesn't  intend  to  re- 
spect it." 

The  gathering  darkness  warned  them  in  at  last,  but  not  til  hap- 
pier themes  had  banished  the  discomfort  growing  out  of  the  confess:on 
bhehad  at  last  summoned  courage  to  make.  Arm  in  arm  they  strolled 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THB  POPLABS.  337 

back  to  the  hotel,  and  from  their  happy  faces  no  one  would  have 
dreamed  of  the  scene  that  had  passed.  Even  yet  Edward  did  not 
resign  the  hope  of  years.  While  she  was  free,  he  would  not,  and  she 
realized  it  joyfully.  The  few  happy  months  that  yet  remained  ;o 
them,  were  like  a  new  lease  of  lile ;  and  tliat  happy  intoxication  of 
heart  and  brain  which  is  inseparable  from  an  nrdent  and  mutual 
affection,  possessed  them  both.  The  door  of  Leonore's  parlor  stood 
hospitably  open  :is  the  two  passed  by  it  upon  their  way  along  the 
hail,  and  she  called  them  in. 

"  Come,  Julie ;  add  your  persuasions  to  mine,  and  let  U3  see  if  we 
can't  keep  our  truants  a  day  or  two  longer.  Won't  you  be  persuaded, 
Edward  ?  Why  need  you  hurry  back  ?" 

Julie  bent  her  softly  radiant  eyes  upon  him,  but  he  resisted  their 
mute  appeal. 

•'  It  is  utterly  impossible,  pretty  sister.  Keep  your  husband  if  you 
will.  He's  of  no  use  anywhere  else;  but  I  can't  stay.  I  ought  not 
to  have  lefc  my  patieats  for  even  this  visit." 

Lconore  looked  disappointed  at  the  reply,  but  remonstrance  was 
us-jics7.  Lisle  had  a  complaint  to  make,  and  he  advanced  it. 

"  Wnat  do  you  think  of  a  wile  who  utterly  refuses  to  write  to  her 
lord  during  absence  ?  Leonore  outrightly  refuses  to  do  so,  in  pun- 
ishment for  my  declining  to  remain  and  do  penance  here.  I  want 
you  to  put  her  upon  a  strict  regime  of  bread  and  water,  till  she  re- 
lents and  consents  to  do  her  duty,  Julie." 

'•  Wouldn't  bread  and  honey  do  as  weli?' Julie  asked  demurely. 

Edward  nodded  Ids  approval  of  the  suggestion. 

"  There  a  e  scientific  reasons  for  preferring  the  latter.  You  see, 
Lisle,  that  upon  the  sanitary  condition  of  the  stomach  depends  the 
nervous  vigor  and  healthy  condition  ot  the  m.nd,  and — " 

"  Hold  on  there,  doctor.  That  simcks  decidedly  of  the  days  when 
you  exer  ised  your  budding  genius  upon  poor  pussy  and  chanti- 
cleer. It  is  but  one  advance  beyond  '  circulation  '  and  '  adipose  tis- 
sue,' and  not  half  as  intelligible.  Besides,  I  don't  want  a  letter  in- 
spired from  Leonore's  stomach,  and  nervous  paraphernalia.  They 
are  no  doubt  excellent  articles  to  have  about  one  ;  but  as  I  have 
never  yet  h  id  one  letter  from  her,  it  should  coma  from  the  heart, 
like  all  tir^t  love  letters.'' 

'' I  was  eluc.itedto  think  the  initiative  belonged  to  the  gentle- 
man  in  mat  ers  pertaining  to  the  tender  passion.  Hew  many  letters 
have  you  ever  written  to  ine  ?"  Leonore  said  banteriugly. 

"  1 11  write  you  one  this  moment,  if  you  promise  to  answer  it  Tues- 
day." 


338  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

She  shook  her  head,  and  with  some  display  of  pique  he  exclaimed, 

"  I  declare,  Lsonore,  I  never  knew  you  had  so  much  obstinacy." 

She  bent  her  head  upon  his  shoulder  with  a  caressing  gesture 
that  softened  him  at  once,  and  bending  hU  cheek  down  upon  it,  he 
said, 

•'  What  a  strange  little  puss  it  is.  So  good  and  gentle,  yet  so  re- 
lentless! You  will  repent  when  I  am  gone,  and  the  white  winged 
little  messenger  will  come  to  tell  me  so."  She  did  not  reply,  and  he 
left,  believing  that  her  silence  was  a  tacit  consent. 

Left  once  more  to  themselves,  the  ladies  "  took  up  the  burden  of 
life  I'gain,"  just  where  they  had  laid  it  down  the  preceding  Satur- 
day. Louis  Hartley  reappeared  at  the  hotel  punctually  Monday 
morning,  and  his  presence  awoke  the  same  longing  wish  in  the 
hearts  of  both,  to  return  to  that  peaceful  home  where  he  dared  not 
intrude. 

Julie  knew  herself  the  sole  object  of  his  persecution,  and  detested 
him  accordingly.  But  Leonore  wavered  between  two  opinions, 
sometimes  fancying  that  his  sole  wish  was  to  annoy  and  harass  her- 
self, sometimes  believing  that  he  remained  only  in  the  hope  of  rein- 
stating himself  in  Julie's  favor,  and  only  cared  to  make  her  of  some 
service  in  attaining  his  object.  As  yet  his  attentions  had  not  been 
sufficiently  marked  toward  either,  to  arouse  that  spirit  of  gossip  ever 
dominant  in  such  an  assemblage  of  idle  people  as  thronged  the 
hotel.  But  during  this  second  week  of  Hartley's  sojourn,  it  was 
whispered  among  ihe  censorious  that  he  was  far  too  devoted  to  the 
beautiful  Mrs.  Sterling,  who  had  refu-ed  to  go  back  home  with  her 
husband  despite  his  solicitations,  and  that  her  affectation  of  c  >id- 
ness  towards  her  handsome  admirer  was  only  a  veil  to  screen  the 
flirtation,  if  indeed  it  were  not  something  more  serious. 

With  consummate  tact.  Hartley  had  managed  to  ingratiate  him- 
self with  nil  sorts  of  people  there  present,  and  man-iging  in  mini  is 
angled  for  him  upon  the  mere  .-trength  of  his  own  assumptions. 
Julie  looked  on  while  the  manceuvers  proceeded,  fervently  praying 
that  he  might  be  entiapped  by  some  fair  damsel,  whom  she  would 
have  blessed  as  her  benefactress. 

Little  by  little  it  began  to  be  said  that  he  wns  rather  too  fond  of 
play;  but  brothers  laughed  to  sci  rn  th<  ir  istcrs'  consternation,  ;>nd 
mothers  declared  it  a  mere  fashionable  folly  of  which  matrim  ny 
would  cure  him.  Leonore  heard  the*e  whispers  of  him,  and  they 
did  not  increase  her  pleasure  a:  being  the  now  unmis'akable  object 
of  his  attentions.  Yet  scheme  as  she  would,  she  could  not  prevent 
them,  his  seeming  complete  uncousciousm-ss  of  her  coldness  leaving 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  339 

lier  no  choice  between  them  and  an  open  rupture,  which  she  dared 
not  make. 

Julie  was  for  from  making  any  such  concession3.  She  knew  that 
he  attached  himself  to  Leonore  for  the  sole  purpose  of  being  one  of 
her  own  party  and  carrying  out  his  thivat  of  protesting  should  she 
accept  too  exclusive  attentions  from  any  other. 

So  the  time  parsed  on,  cheered  for  Leonore  only  by  the  arrival  of 
th  j  promised  letter  from  Lisle.  It  was  in  reality  the  first  he  had 
cvc  r  wi  .tten  her,  and  verified  hi-  assertion  that  as  tuch  it  came  from 
the  li  art. 

Saturday  came  at  last,  nnd  with  it  he  returned,  accompan;ed  by 
several  Benedicts.  Mr.  Venard  and  Mr.  Bertram  were  among  the 
number,  and  while  Mast  -r  Charley  entertained  his  papa  with  boyish 
loquarity,  Mr.  Bertram  smoked,  and  aired  his  heels  upon  the  bal- 
cony railing,  while  his  wife  flitted  and  chattered  around  him  as  it 
resolved  to  extract  something  resembling  conversation  from  the  at- 
mosphere around  and  above  him,  through  which  she  now  and  then 
caught  a  gliinpsa  of  him. 

"  What  upon  earth  ails  you,  Mattic  !''  he  exclaimed  at  length  be- 
tween two  voluminous  puffs  of  cigar-smoke.  "  You  are  like  a  face- 
bewithched  fly,  with  your  continual  buzzing  and  setting  at  one! 
One  would  think  you  hadn't  had  a  chance  to  talk  for  a  whole 
month." 

<kl  haven't  to  you,  and  one  likes  to  keep  up  appearances  beforo 
people.  Suppose  I  were  to  leave  you  out  here  all  day  ." 

"Humph,"  was  the  appreciating  rejoinder. 

"Isn't  it  lonely  at  home,  dear  ?  "she  asked  with  one  more  affec- 
tionate effort,  determined  not  to  give  way  to  the  resentment  that 
was  rising. 

"What  for,  pray?"     He  asked  the  question  in  real  surprise. 

"Oli",  you  must  be  so  utterly  destitute  of  politeness  there,  judging 
from  the  small  supply  you  brought  wMi  you,"  she  retorted  as  she 
reti cited  and  left  him  to  himself.  Truly  Mrs.  Bertram  had  not  a 
polite  or  attentive  husband  ;  but  he  let  her  have  her  own  way,  and 
most  wives  appreciate  this  as  much  as  they  would  all  the  model 
virtues  without  it. 

L'jonore  marvelled  at  tin  sang  froid  with  which  they  made  their 
adieu x  when  the  hour  of  parting  arrived.  As  Lisle  kissed  her 
good- bye,  he  said  gently, 

"  You  don't  owe  me  a  letter  unless  you  choose  to  think  so ;  but  I 
need  not  tell  you  one  would  be  as  dear  to  me  as  mine  could  have 
been  to  you." 


340  THE  HOUSE  BBHItfD  THE  FOPtAHS. 

The  appeal  rung  in  lier  ears  long  after  he  had  left  her,  and  she 
wrung  her  hands  irapotently  as  she  remembered  it.  "  Oh,  this 
hateful,  hateful  place  !  I  cannot  stay  here  another  week  !"  she  ex- 
cl  limed  as  she  dashed  some  rebellious  tears  away.  Stic  resolved  to 
jisk  Mrs.  Bertram  to  chaperone  Juiie,  and  to  return  home  with  Lislo 
upon  his  very  next  visit ;  and  deriving  some  comf  rt  from  the  reso- 
lution, she  bathed  her  eyes  for  the  social  review  to  which  she 
might  at  any  moment  be  subjected. 

Quickly  enough  following  this  preparation,  the  expected  rapping 
w..s  heard  at  her  doer,  and  the  opened  it  smilingly.  A  boating  ex- 
cursion was  being  planned  for  the  evening,  and  a  committe  •  were 
taking  the  names  of  those  who  would  form  the  party,  that  accom- 
modations might  be  secured  for  all.  Loonore  accepted  the  invita- 
tion with  the  customary  seeming  appreciation  that  was  but  lip  ser- 
vice to  the  world  around  her.  This  should  be  her  last  week  of  so 
unsatisfactory  an  existenc  ;  and  strong  in  the  thought,  she  took 
her  place  in  the  boat  at  the  appointed  hour  and  r;  ached  out  her 
hand  to  Julie  who  was  to  follow.  Bi.t  that  young  lady  waxed  re- 
fractory when  she  saw  that  Louis  Hartler  was  Leonorc's  e.=pecial 
gallant,  and  u;,!ekly  effecting  the  desired  change,  she  delegated  an- 
other to  the  pi-.ce  reserved  for  lurtelf,  and  with  a  nod  to  Leonore 
sprang  into  another  boat.  In  the  boat  immediately  following,  two 
young  Indies  were  discussing  her  with  that  confidential  interchange 
of  opinion  eo  common  among  ladies  of  a  cert  tin  turn  of  mind. 

"  I  declare,"  exclamed  Mbs  Sophie,  "  that  Mrs.  Sterling  is  too  af- 
fected to  be  endurable  !  She  is  easily  read  despite  the  haughty  air^ 
she  :issuii!cs,  and  she  is  as  v:iin  as  possible.  I  don't  soe  what  that 
elegant  Mr.  Horton  finds  to  admire  in  her." 

"Yes,  and  to  leave  us  to  take  up  \\-\\\\  such  a  lot  as  there  is  left 
lure,"  and  she  looked  around  contemptuously  upon  the  collection 
of  young  brothers  not  yet  out  of  their  sisters'  leading  brings,  ar.d. 
rec'-iv-ng  many  a  'snub'  from  tho«c  ladi<-s  while  practicing  their  jn- 
Vt-iiilc  gallantries  toward  others.  The  young  lady  VKumed,  UI 
wonder  what  her  husband  would  say  it'  he  knew  it.  You  heard 
what  he  said  ab;;ut  wives  being  comforters  to  their  husbands,  that 
morning  in  her  parlor,  didn't  you  ?  He  knows  his  own  troubles,  for 
nil  he  plays  devot.-d  to  her  before  people  !  Another  thing,  Josie, 
I've  made  a  discovery  that  is  s:gnificant.  Do  you  notice  that  every 
time  the  husband  appears  upon  the  scene,  a  certain  gentleman  van- 
ishes from  it,  and  no  sooner  is  the  husband  aw.iy  than  forthwith 
reappears  the  certain  gentleman  ?'' 

Mi  s  Jo  ie  grasped  her  companion's  hand. 


THE"  HOUSE   BETTIXD  TOE   POPLARS.  311 

"  I  believe  that  is  really  so  !  Dear  me,  how  scandalous;  and  she 
affecting  to  chaperone  a  young  ward  of  her  husband's.  But  she  is 
pretty,  to  tell  just  the  truth,  and  she  sings  splendidly !" 

(i  '•Pretty ! '  Why  she's  as  pale  and  cold  as  a  snow-bank  !  Just 
see  her  there  where  she  is  bending  over  the  water.  Of  course  she  is 
quitii  unconscious  that  Mr.  Horton  hasn't  taken  his  eyes  off  her  since 
she  cast  herself  into  that  forlorn  attitude." 

"  Sophie,  Sophie,  lean  over  here.  As  sure  as  you  live,  Julie  Kelley 
has  heard  every  word  we've  been  saying !  I  thought  she  wa<3  going 
in  the  other  boat.  She  doesn't  look  this  way,  but  I  know  she  heard, 
for  her  blue  eyes  are  just  snapping!" 

"  I  don't  care.  If  she  don't  like  the  comments  her  ladyship  incurs 
let  her  give  her  a  hint  or  two.  She  has  the  more  sense  of  the  two, 
and  a  lesson  wont  do  Mrs.  Sterling  any  hurt.  When  you  see  thcso 
wonderfully  perfect  women — look  out  for  them  !"  and  with  this  fem- 
inine philosophy  Miss  Sophie  consented  to  drop  the  subject. 

Quite  unconscious  of  the  observation  she  excited,  Leonore  retained 
her  position  till  Mrs.  Bertram  roused  her. 

"  Come,  Leonore ;  no  dreaming  here." 

Raising  her  eyes,  Mrs.  Bertram  saw  that  they  were  misty  with 
unshed  tears. 

•'Upon  my  word  !"  she  exclaimed.     "  What  is  the  matter  V 

"I  am  homesick  and  heartsick,"  she  replied  sadly. 

"  Then  in  mercy's  name  go  home,  and  carry  the  sick  heart  to  its 
keeper." 

"  I  will  if  you  will  be  kind  enough  to  take  Julie  under  your 
charge." 

"  With  pleasure,  most  assuredly.  So  you  really  have  a  caprice  to 
go  horn;;  t"  ^^ 

"It  is  morej^M  Mprice.  I  am  literally  heartsick  under  this 
weary  separatio^BBBnny  home  and  husband  !" 

Hartley  raised  his  hat  as  he  said  with  a  covert  sneer, 

"  Mrs.  Sterling's  husband  is  more  fortunate  than  oth  rs.  I  thought 
wives  quite  luxuriated  under  these  separations.  Perhaps,  though, 
the  flirtations  in  which  they  indulge  during  such  tempting  oppor- 
tunities, are  only  by  way  of  rendering  endurance  possible." 

Leonore  did  not  deign  a  reply,  and  Mrs.  Bertram  took  up  tho 
gauntlet. 

"  Mrs.  Sterling  never  did  so  undignified  a  thing  as  to  flirt,  in  all 
her  life.  To  be  sure  she  has  no  temptation  to  do  so,  for  her  husband 
is  more  loverlike  than  any  one  else  could  be.  But  I'm  fir  from 
thinking  it  singular  that  most  married  ladies  are  somewhat  too  fond 


342  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAUS. 

of  the  nice  little  intentions  and  bewitching  whisperings  called 
flirtations,  bidding  iaruwell  to  the  u,  as  they  do,  from  the  chosen  one, 
from  the  hour  they  are  married. 

Her  listeners  smiled  at  her  vivacious  explanation;  and  really 
entertained  with  her,  Hartley  exerted  himself  to  please  her, 
knowing  that  if  she  should  really  be  left  as  Julie's  companion 
during  Ljonore's  absence,  it  would  serve  his  interests  to  gain  her 
favor.  So  well  did  ho  succeed,  that  as  the  tvvo  ladies  mounted  the 
stairs  together  upon  their  return,  Mrs.  Bertram  said,  "  Why  didn't 
you  tell  me  that  Mr.  Horton  was  so  entertaining !  I  fancied  you 
didn't  think  him  so." 

"  I  dou't  like  him  at  all,  if  you  wish  the  truth." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Because  he  is  detestable  to  me,"  she  replied  emphatically. 

"Well,  that  is  an  all-sufficient  reason,  I  admit,"  Mrs.  Bertiam 
good-naturedly  replied. 

Julie  entered  soon  after,  out  of  spirits  as  was  evident  at  a  glance. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Julie  ?"  Leouore  asked  in  surpise. 

"  The  matter  is  that  I'm  disgusted  with  this  place  and  every  one 
in  it.  Do  let  us  leave  it  and  go  back  home." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  little  girl.  I  would  have  gone  ere  this  had  I 
known  you  wished  it." 

Julie  struggled  with  some  strong  feeling,  but  directly  asked 
abruptly, 

"  Leonore,  what  is  Louis  Hartley  to  you  ?" 

"  Nothing  but  an  object  of  dislike,"  was  the  calm  rcpljfc 

"Has  he  fallen  in  love  with  you,  Leonore  ?'' 

"  He  cares  less  than  nothing  for  me." 

"Well,  people  are  talking  strange  thin^tffejj^wcr  that  may  be. 
Why  does  he  follow  you  like  your  very  s"j[^l  B11^  if  you  dislike 
him  why  don't  you  tell  him  to  clear  out  ?" UMBKd  impulsively. 

"  Julie,  you  have  heard  something  unpleasant.  Tell  me  all, 
please." 

"  I  will,  for  I  don't  believe  in  the  role  of  silent  friendship." 

She  told  her  what  she  had  overheard,  and  then  silently  awaited 
her  comment.  Leonore's  color  Went  and  came  under  the  relation, 
but  she  did  not  once  interrupt  it.  "  I  know,"  said  Julie  in  conclu- 
sion, '•  that  he  don't  thus  play  at  hide  and  seek  with  Lisle  upon 
your  account,  but  mine.  But  I  tell  you,  Leonore,  I  wish  you  would 
coax  him  to  stay  and  get  his  head  everlastingly  broken,  as  he  would 
were  Lisle  to  catch  him  here.  He  won't  gain  anything  with  me 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THK   POPLAKS.  343 

by  staying  here,  and  if  you  don't  like  him,  I  don't  see  what  there  is 
to  keep  him  any  longer.  He'd  leave  to-day  if  we  did." 

4i  You  dou't  like  him  any  better  than  you  did  when  we  came 
here  ? ' 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  Don't  you  see  I  won't  suffer  him  near  me  ?  I 
forbade  his  attentions  long  since,  aud  you  ought  to,  if  you  will 
pardon  my  saying  so.  I  dou't  presume  to  offer  my  advice,  Leonore, 
but  I  do  think  him  less  than  a  gentleman  however  he  is  universally 
mistaken  for  one.  He  hates  Lisle,  and  would  gladly  torture  him 
by  causing  his  wife  to  be  maligned  and  slandered  upon  his  account." 

"  It  shall  stop  here,  Julie.     We  will  go  back  home  next  week." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  week  passed,  and  with  Saturday  came  Edward  and  Lisle. 
Leonore  looked  up  with  an  apprehensive  glance  as  Lisle  crossed  tho 
threshold,  for  mingled  with  her  joy  at  his  presence,  was  the  con- 
sciousness of  her  own  delinquency.  His  letter  had  remaiued  unan- 
swered. Never  before  had  she  permitted  his  slightest  wish  to  pass 
uugratified.  -What  must  he  think  of  her  present  neglect. 

'•What's  all  this?  What  is  wrong,  little  fellow?"  Lisle  asked 
wonderingly. 

•<  Everything  is  wrong  while  we  are  separated.  I  cannot  live 
away  irorn  you !  I  am  homesick,  heartsick  and  miserable.  Only 
take  me  back  home,1'  she  said  appealingly. 

"  I  dare  not,  Leonore.  The  city  is  one  pest-hole  of  disease. 
People  are  all  alauM^tajid  rushing  away  as  rapidly  as  possible." 

"  Then  stay  \u  Hlf  you  cannot  or  will  not,  I  will  go  back 
and  share  the  da^H^Ri  you.'l 

He  presssed  her  fondly  to  his  brtast,  and  ki?sed  her  again  and 
again  delightedly  "  Inconsistent  little  mortal,"  he  ;-aid  at  last, 
';  who  will  not  so  much  as  write  me  one  little  scrap,  yet  begs  to  ri.sk 
her  life  for  the  sake  of  remaining  with  me  !'' 

"Mine  will  be  risked  no  more  than  yours,  and' I  certainly  shall 
die  if  you  tell  me  &tay  away." 

"  I  will  do  better,  dear  child,  for  I  will  stay  with  you." 

"  Will  you?     Will  you  really  ?"  she  queried  earnestly. 

"  I  really  will.  Why  not  ?  If  you  are  tired  of  stopping  here,  we 
will  j.,o  elsewhere.  And  Julie,  how  is  she  ?  Still  in  love  with  the 
place  ?'' 


344  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

"  She  is  tired  to  death  of  it." 

"  So  we  go ;  the  beloved  of  yesterday  i3  the  detested  of  to-day, 
and  thank  God  for  change  !  She  isn't  to  know  of  the  fever,  thoug;i. 
If  Ed  is  to  have  it  he  won't  be  a  shade  the  less  saffron-hued  because 
her  eyes  are  redder  and  her  nasal  organ  more  prominent  with  we-.-p- 
ing." 

"  Why  Lisle  !     How  can  you  jest  over  such  a  possibility  ?" 

"Only  b: cause  if  wor^t  comes  to  worst  it  involves  his  taking  a 
turn  at  his  own  perscriptions  Every  doctor  ought  to  come  to  tii  ;t 
ones  or  twice  in  his  life,  just  to  make  him  merciful.  There  «re  no 
such  cravens  in  existence  as  a  physician,  or  a  clergyman,  when  in 
any  real  danger  to  life  or  limb.  The  trouble  is,  neither  of  them  Uo- 
lieves  in  his  own  theory,  however  he  may  pat  it  on  the  back  in 
hours  of  security.  Edward  will  vouch  for  that,  as  here  he  conus  " 

He  had  overheard  the  last  words,  and  he  nodded  approv.il  when 
thus  appealed  to. 

Lisle  turned  to  Julie,  who,  bright  and  radiant,  had  seated  herself 
besi  !e  him. 

"  Well.  Julie,  make  a  report  of  what  you  and  Leonore  have  been 
about  daring  my  absence." 

"  E  during  the  malice  of  the  'dear  five  hundred  friends'  whose 
tongue?  you  set  wagging  one  unlucky  morning." 

"  Mirabilf  dictu  !  As  if  they  required  to  be  set  wagging,  when 
they  are  never  anything  el-e  !" 

••  Well,  at  least  you  gave  them  a  new  impetus  and  direction  ;  else 
they  never  would  have  attacked  Leonore,  who  is  declared  guilty  of 
brinuintr  your  gray  hairs  in  sorrow  thus  far  toward  the  grave.'' 

"  Well,  I  admit  that  a  husband  who  thus  causes  his  wife  to  be  ac- 
cus'-d,  deserves  to  be  sat  upon  by  a  corouMj^Muest  of  old  women, 
and  condemned  to  eternal  ma  riir.ony  -R  t^H  ^world  with  a  red- 
headed feminine  and  a  lap-dog !" 

•'  I'm  glad  we  are  to  go  back  home,"  Juneinterrupted  with  en- 
thu  iasm.  "If  this  is  what  people  call  going  pleasure  hunting,  I'm 
sure  there's  a  vast  amount  of  hunting  for  very  little  game.'' 

••  Nothing  of  the  sort,  little  sis!''  Lisle  replied  tormentingly.  "Two 
fashionab'e  ladies  creeping  do\vu  the  back  staircises,  and  living  i:i 
ihe  area,  lest  their  neighbors'  servants  should  report  them  not  out 
of  town !  I  couldn't  consent  to  it." 

'•  I  would  protest  if  I  believed  you  in  earnest.     Is  he,  Edward  r" 

"  I  believe  so  indeed.  I  heard  him  giving  orders  to  good  Mrs. 
Perkins  which  seemad  to  indicate  that  he  was  flitting  for  an  in  ieti- 
nite  time," 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  345 

"  And.  you,  Sir  Esculapius  ?" 

"There  were  no  orders  issued,  but  I  shall  jog  on  as  usual,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"Yes,"  said  Lisle,  "Ed  lias  become  too  big  a  gun  to  bear  tians- 
portation,  and  will  charge  around  home — I  wish  I  knew  his  bene- 
factions woukThalf  equal  the  charge — and  I've  no  doubt  he'll  slay 
Ms  ihousirtids !" 

She  looked  her  disappointment,  and  Lisle  hastened  to  comfort  her. 

"  You  are  to  be  led  to  fresh  fields  and  pastures  new,  Julie.  If  any 
one  is  devoted  enough  to  follow  you,  let  him  come.  Otherwise  you 
shall  practise  your  little  arts  upon  an  entirely  new  crop  of  beaux." 

"  Leouorc  wants  to  go  home  as  much  as  I  do.  She  would  insist 
upon  doing  so,  too,  did  she  feel  any  sense  of  possessorship  there, 
which  she  doesn't.  Come,  now,  Edward,  having  thrown  this  bomb- 
shell into  the  enemy's  camp,  I'm  ready  to  leave.  Let  us  off  to  the 
beach." 

'•What  docs  the  child  mean  ?"  Lisle  asked  when  the  two  had  left 
them.  '•!  verily  believe  that  she  fancies,  as  I  often  do,  that  you 
think  your  reign  in  our  house  a  sort  of  right  upon  sufferance.  Do 
be  assertiv  •,  tyrannical,  anything  to  show  that  you  fully  believe  in 
your  own  rights." 

"  Why,  Lisle,  I  have  none  save  what  your  love  gives  me !" 

"  And  I  tell  you  I  protest  against  this  view  of  it.  Why  can't  you 
feel  that  all  I  have  belongs  to  you  in  an  equal  degree !  Why, 
Leonore,  you  own  me,  body  and  soul.  Don't  you  know  it  ?  You 
would,  could  you  know  all  you  are  to  nv1.  How  utterly  dark  and 
worthless  was  my  life  till  you  grew  into  it,  revivifying  and  biightening 
it,  and  making  it  for  the  first  time  worth  having." 

"  Ah,  Lisle,  that  sounds  like  your  old-time  misanthropy  !'' 

"  '  Misanthropy  !'  Well  might  it  have  been  worse.  I  was  bora  to 
a  fate  as  undeserved  as  bitterly  unjust,  and  I  commenced  to  accom- 
plish it  before  I  was  out  of  my  cradle.  In  my  youth  I  staggered 
under  a  burden  that  would  -have  crushed  a  full-grown  man,  and  I 
can  remember  when  I  shrank  and  cowered  away  from  my  mother's 
glance  with  a  trembling  awe  that  was  terrible.  What  should  I 
have  become,  if  not  misanthropical  ?  If  such  a  man  ever  docs  learn 
to  love  and  tiust,  tint  love  and  trust  are  terrible  in  their  intensity, 
and  she  who  wins  them  holds  a  fearful  responsibility  !  Why, 
Leonore,  you  would  be  frightened  ;tt  your  own  power  over  me  did 
you  realize  it !  Yet  you  shrink  fiom  all  it  gives  you,  cry  out  that 
your  rights  are  based  only  on  iny  love  and  generosity,  and  cease- 
lessly interpose  between  us  a  na  reless  b  Trier  which  J  Q.; 


346  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAB9. 

down.  Oh,  my  little  wife,  you  must  feel  toward  me  what  I  BO  en- 
tirdy  fed  for  you,  that  literal  identification  of  thought  and  being, 
that  makes  us  one  and  the  very  same.  I  have  nothing  in  God's 
world  but  you !" 

He  clasped  her  to  his  heart  with  a  gesture  replete  with  the  very 
agony  of  love,  and  for  an  instant  her  heart  stood  still  under  it.  She 
was  never  mistress  of  herself  when  he  spoke  so  earnestly,  and  half 
unconsciously  she  murmured,  "miserable,  guilty  wretch  that  I  am  !'' 

"  Why  miserable  ?     Guilty  of  what  ?"  he  demanded  protesting'y. 

"  I  tell  you,  Lisle,  it  is  nothing  but  my  own  conscious  unwoithi- 
ness  that  creates  this  invisible  barrier  of  which  you  oompl  .in. 
When  I  am  most  completely  wrapped  up  in  you,  I  least  dare  reveal 
it ;  and  when  most  I  realize  your  devotion  to  me,  this  same  self-re- 
proach cries  out  that  I  am  all  unworthy  to  receive  it.  Banish  me, 
send  me  away  from  you  at  once  and  forever,  and  let  me  die,  as  I 
soon  should.  Then  you  will  be  avenged." 

"  Strange  words.  Banish  you  ?  .Not  while  life  remains,  were  you 
as  lost  and  guilty  as  I  know  you  good  and  innocent." 

"  Innocent  indeed,  if  so  you  could  pronounce  me  !     I  never  sinned ' 
against  any  other." 

"Then  be  absolved  for  all  imaginary  sins.  I  forgive  you  all; 
only  love  me." 

"  That  I  do,  God  knows  !"  she  exclaimed  fervently,  and  then  rais- 
ing herself  from  his  arms,  she  gazed  at  him  most  wistfully.  "Sup- 
pose, Lisle,  just  suppose,  that  I  had  weakly  deceived  you,  led  you 
perhaps  to  make  me  your  wife,  in  your  confiding  trust  in  me,  and 
your  utter  ignorance  of  all  I  thus  refrained  from  revealing  to  you 
while  you  had  the  undisputed  right  to  my  perfect  truth  and  confi- 
dence. Had  I  thus  made  good  my  place  in  your  heart  and  home, 
thus  won  the  honors  you  delight  to  offer  me,  would  you  still  say 
'  you  are  good  and  innocent,  I  forgive  all  ?'  Tell  me,  Lisle,  would 
you  forgive  anything  that  thus  makes  us  one  ?" 

"  Ah,  Leonore,  are  the  old  shadows- over  you  again?  I  thought 
they  were  banished  long  ago  !  I  thought  that  in  making  you  my 
wife  I  had  f  jrev<r  dispelled  them,  as  I  would.  But  I  answer  you 
thus  :  If  indeed  you  have  d".ne  all  this  which  you  ask  me  to  sup- 
pose, I  say  never  convince  me  of  it.  Better  to  be  happy  even  under 
a  deception,  than,  in  being  undeceived,  to  see  one's  ideal  shattered 
and  peace  forever  wrecked  ?" 

"  Lisle.  Lisle  !  I  would  give  my  life  to  make  you  happy  !" 

"Well,  keep  it  and  pa-s  it  with  me.  This  is  all  I  a^k.  Oh,  if  I 
could  once  weary  of  you,  Loonore  !  I  am  never  satisfied  with  your 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS*  317 

presence,  ever  restless  out  of  it  I  These  weeks  of  separation  have 
been  an  eteuiity  of  discontent  and  wearine-s.  Let  us  seek  out  some 
quiet  little  nook  of  our  own,  where  gossip  and  worldly  vanity  come 
not,  and  there  have  a  little  cottage  of  romantic  aspect  where  for1 
once  the  poet's  tlreams  shall  be  realized.  I  will  transform  myself 
into  a  wrcather  of  lilies  and  roses,  and  deck  you  with  seaweeds,  and 
perpetrate  any  absurdity  supposed  to  be  emblematic  of  the  tender 
passion." 

She  ;•  nailed  her  reply,  and  chanted  archly,  '"Wreathed  \vitli 
bright  seaweed,  a  mermaid  I  will  be ' — " 

"And  I  the  enchanted  mortal  attracted  to  destruction.  Verily, a 
husband  who  thus  iollows  into  letiremeut  a  wife — his  own,  mind 
you  ;  not  some  ones'  else  ;  that's  diiferent — in  whose  presence  he  is 
content  to  forget  the  world,  is  already  under  the  spell  of  enchint- 
ment.  Rehearse -your  sea-cave  chants,  fair  mermaid  ;  or,  better  yet, 
open  your  piano  and  sing  to  me  in  good  sensible  fashion." 

She  smiled  compliance  with  the  request ;  but  before  she  had  com- 
mence 1,  a  rap  was  beard  upon  the  door,  anl  Lisle  opened  it  while 
she  kept-  her  p'ace  at  the  piano.  Mrs.  Venard  c  ime  in,  bearing  an 
open  letter  from  her  husband,  and  her  fa-je  was  anxious  and  tioubled. 

"  Tell  nit?,  Mr.  Sterling,  just  how  you  left  matters  in  the  city." 

"  Bad  enough,  I  can  tell  you.  There's  an  exodus  of  the  panic- 
stricken  in  all  directions.  However.  Venard  is  safe.  He  is  iiccli- 
inated." 

"  Yes,  so  am  I.  I  am  eoing  back  home  to-morrow,  to  do  what 
good  I  can." 

"  Mrs.  Venard  !"  exclaimed  Leonore  in  alarm. 

''Not  in  the  least  Quixotic.  Did  you  ever  think  how  many  dio 
in  eve  ry  epidemic  without  receiving  one  alleviating  ca>  e  ?  If  I  lessen 
the  number  of  these  even  by  one,  it  is  better  than  idling  here.  Will 
you  keep  Charley  with  you,  and  so  leave  me  quite  at  liberty  ?'' 

"  Certain  y,  unl(  ss  you  will  take  me  with  you  iis  your  assistant." 

"That  I  will  not.  Stay  with  your  husband,  for  f  shall  have  no 
time  to  nurse  raw  recruits,  nor  power  to  heal  broken  hearts  shoul  I 
yo  i  make  one  by  your  imprudent  zeal.  Mrs.  Bertram  has  orders  to 
remain  with  you — marital  injunctions  which  she  will  gladly  obey,  so 
you  may  have  quite  a  merry  party  yet.  I  am  glad  yon  have  forme, I 
the  sensible  conclusion  to  stay  with  your  wife,  Mr.  Sterling.  Sho 
has  but  a  lonely  time  of  it  without  you." 

l'  Not  to  mention  that  gossip-mongers  find  her  name  attractive," 
he  rejoined. 

"  Ah  !  I  hoped  she  did  not  know  that.    You  will  some  day  con- 


348  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

elude  to  profess  some  admiration  for  the  sex,  if  only  upon  your  wife's 
account.  Unfortunately,  people  don't  all  know  what  a  harmless 
cynic  you  are." 

"  I  will  reform,  I  promise  you.  Foolish  people;  do  they  imagine 
that  when  one  really  suffers  the  evils  he  pretends  to  lament,  tiiat 
they  are  thus  proclaimed  from  the  housetop  ?  A  man  keeps  real 
grief  in  his  own  heart,  and  guards  it  jealously." 

"  This  is  not  a  reflecting  world,  and  it  has  a  truly  feminine  talent 
f  JT  jumping  at  conclusions." 

"  Yes.  A  man  may  proclaim  his  felicity  till  his  lungs  are  sore, 
and  nobo  ly  believes  him;  but  let  him  drop  a  bint  of  '  secret  trrief 
and  family  trouble,'  and  it  flies  trumpet-tongued.  Don't  go,  Mrs. 
Venard.'' 

"  I  really  must.  I  have  all  my  packing  yet  to  do.  I  hope,  dear 
Sirs.  Sterling,  that  you  may  pass  a  most  pleasant  summer.  If  your 
lord  needs  any  more  lectures,  let  me  know.  It  is  such  a  pleasure  to 
serve  him  I" 

"  Your  generosity  is  well  known,  fair  and  gracious  lady,"  said 
Lisle  with  a  profound  bow.  "I'd  li'.ce  to  kno-.v  wh;n  you  two  or 
three  ladies  made  this  conspiracy  to  join  forces  against  me.  Well 
may  Leonorc  be  a  turtle  dove  of  meekness  and  resignation,  when 
she  knows  that  you  and  Mrs.  Bertram  are  ever  ready  to  do  battle 
for  her  !" 

Going  out,  Mrs.  Venard  met  Julie  in  the  hall,  and  drew  her  toward 
her  nxin  with  her,  as  she  said  kindly  but  with  light  warning, 

"  I  am  to  leave  you  to  morrow,  little  Julie,  and  I  must  caution 
you  not  to  lose  your  heart  to  this  fascinating  Leander  of  the  melan- 
choly eyes  and  insinuating  minne:s,  whom  you  call  Mr.  Horton.  I 
can't  like  him,  and  were  I  to  use  a  homely  term,  I  should  s  iy  he  is  a 
humbug.  I  have  written  Phebe,  asking  her  if  he  is  one  of  her  new 
relatives;  for  I  know  that  he  is  laying  a  desperate  siege,  and  my 
symp.thies  are  for  Dr.  Edward.  Don't  surrender,  Julie,  till  you 
know  what  is  said  of  him  by  those  who  know  him  best." 

Julie  made  some  mocking  reply,  and  tripped  away,  mentally  glad 
that  MMJ.  Vomrd  had  shown  the  good  judgment  to  speak  to  her 
nl--iie  instead  of  in  Lisle's  presence,  for  she  feared  each  moment  to 
he:ir  that  name,  which  she  knewvould  arouse  his  curiosity  at  onci-. 
1:  \va-  fiom  Mrs.  Bertram,  after  all,  that  the  danger  was  to  be  fe  red. 
nu.l  later  it  came,  as  that  thoughtless  lady  exclaimed, 

"I  wonder  if  the  gallant  and  devoted  Mr.  Horlon  will  follow  us 
to  our  new  stopping  place !  You  dou't  know,  Lisle,  what  a  devoted 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  349 

cavalier  your  charges  have  gain  d  here,  nor  how  he  is  bcsnubbe.l 
by  all  but  me." 

"  No,  I  am  still  in  ignorance  of  such  an  important  affair.  Ba- 
snubbed,  is  he  ?  yet  everlastingly  adoring.  Who  is  the  Adonis  ?" 

"Oh,  do  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  at  once,"  Julie  exclaimed  before 
Mrs:  Bertram  could  reply.  "Just  own  up  that  he  is  a  favored 
escort  of  yours  upon  whom  you  have  pounced  as  a  successor  to  Mr. 
Bertram  if  he  ever  does  the  handsome  thing  by  you  and  leaves  y.m 
a  you  ig  widow  !  Mr.  Horton  will  find  no  other  defender  here,  for 
Leonoie  detests  and  I  hate  him.  How  dull  and  inopy  we  nil  are. 
Why  don't  we  play  and  sing  ?" 

'•  Upon  my  word,  Julie,  your  anxiety  to  change  the  subject  makes 
me  think  there's  something  in  it.  1  must  investigate  yours  ;nid 
Leonore's  doings  in  my  absence."  Lisle  laughed  as  he  made  the 
assertion,  but  it  was  not  echoed  by  either  of  the  ladies  most  interested, 
uneasy  as  they  were  least  the  idle  gossip  that  had  been  uttered 
should  reach  his  ears. 

It  was,  then,  with  a  feeling  of  profound  relief,  that,  all  arrange- 
ments complete,  the  little  party  took  their  flight  early  in  the  follow- 
ing week  fur  the  fairy  cottage  of  which  Lisle  had  talked,  and  most 
delightful  it  proved.  Julie  resigned  herself  as  best  she  could  to 
this  lengthened  absence  from  the  home  to  which  she  longed  to 
return,  not  a  little  braced  to  its  endurance  by  her  resentment  at 
Edward's  refusal  to  accompany  them,  which  she  had  termed  "real 
obstinacy ;"  and  so  it  seemed  in  her  ignorance  of  his  utter  inability 
to  do  so.  There  was  an  intense  satisfaction  in  the  thought  tha1^  at 
worst  she  had  defeated  Louis  Hartley's  plans  for  the  season,  tince 
he  would  not,  for  his  own  sake,  intrude  upon  them  while  Lisle  was 
their  protector. 

Mrs.  Bertram  and  Julie,  accompanied  by  Master  Charley,  made 
long  jaunts  and  tours  of  discovery  around  the  adjacent  territory, 
while,  left  to  undisturbed  felicity,  Lisle  and  Leonore  lingered  to- 
gether upon  the  balcony  that  looked  far  out  over  the  rolling  waters, 
one  reading  softly  to  the  other  while  the  fresh  breeze  fanned  their 
laces,  lit  up  with  the  very  spirit  of  content.  Then  when  the  moon 
ro-e  bright  and  clou  I  less,  arm  in  aim  they  wandered  down  the 
beech  upon  whose  Ivinl  and  beaten  sands  the  waves  broke  in  rolls  of 
molten  silver.  Thus  peacefully  and  sweetly  passed  the  remainder 
of  that  long  hot  summer,  while  in  the  city  they  had  left,  pestilence 
held  carnival.  Not  till  the  cold  blasts  of  Oc.ober  swept  down  upon 
it  from  the  North,  did  its  saturnalia  cease.  TUeu  familiar  faces 


350  THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLAR3. 

once  ir.ore  came  thronging  on  the  &tn  et-,  and  among  the  first  w  re 
Lisle's  and  those  of  his  cottage  brood. 

The  Venards,  though  weary  and  worn  with  ceaseless  ministerings, 
were  in  good  health  and  spirits,  and  Edward  had  parsed  unscathed 
through  all  the  danger  round  him.  Julie  wept  in  very  joy  at  the 
realization  of  so  many  blessings,  and  humbly  begged  his  pardon  lor 
ail  her  petulant  protests  against  the  "obiliaa^y"  she  forgave  and 
respected  since  she  knew  its  cause. 

"  Could  you  re  illy  think  that  I  remained  away  from  you  so  long 
just  of  my  own  free  choice  ?''  he  asked  reproachfully.  "  I  am  not 
one  of  tho^e  who  take  up  a  cross  for  the  nivre  sake  of  bearing  it. 
How  much  time  we  have  lo^t,  little  Julie  !  Ah,  should  it  only  have 
pleased  Providence  to  have  called  him  home  from  this  wicked 
world  !  It  has  been  a  sickly  summer  everywh.re!'' 

"  Don't  hope  it.  People  whose  life  is  valueless,  never  die.  He'll 
live  till  I  worry  him  to  death,  you  may  be  sure." 

"May  his  constitution  prove  feeble,  and  his  power  of  long-suffer- 
ing much  less  marvellous  than  that  of  most  Benedicts.'' 

Meantime  LLle  and  Leonore  wandered  out  into  the  pale  golden 
sunlight  of  the  cool  October  morning.  From  garden  to  summer- 
house,  from  flower-borders  to  the  sombre  shade  cast  by  the  live  oaks. 
Everything  seemed  to  give  them  an  audible  welcome,  to  which 
Leonore  responded  gratefully, 

*  Oh,  I  am  so  happy  !     This  is  what  it  is  to  have  a  home .'" 

"  You  are  glad,  then,  after  all,  that  you  married  me  and  thus  made 
it '  a  home  'to  me  as  well  as  you  ? — for  it  was  not  so  before,"  re- 
sponded Lisle. 

'•  •  Glad  ?'  Yes,  a  thousand  times  !  If  I  die  fir  it,  I  have  at  least 
known  heaven  first !  Conscience  itself  has  ceased  to  reproach  me." 

"  I  knew  you  were  merely  over-sensitive.  See  now,  how  weak  I 
should  have  been  to  allow  such  a  very  myth  to  interpose  between  us 
and  happiness !  You  feared  I  should  tyrannize  over  you.  Ah,  Le- 
onore !" 

"So  you  would  have  done — and  gained  les- — had  you  not  been 
the  most  generous  and  noble-hearted  man  who  ever  lived.'' 

"I'm  af.aid  you  have  not  an  exalted  opinion  of  men  in  general, 
and  husbands  in  especial,"  he  replied,  smiling. 

They  were  strolling  along  again,  now,  and  Lisle  said,  pointing  to 
a  dead  vine  that  clung  to  the  trellis, 

"  See,  child.  Y(.ur  climbing  rose  is  quite  dead.  Things  don't 
flourish  in  Joseph's  absence.  He  is  a  gool  gardener." 

As  if  the  mention  of  his  n-inie  invoked  his  presence,  Joseph  him 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  351 

self  came  suddenly  upon  them  as  they  turned   among  the  shrub- 
bery. 

"  Well,  Joseph,  what  now  ?"  Lisle  asked,  seeing  that  he  waited  to 
be  addressed. 

"  I  just  come  round  to  find  out  what  you'd  concluded  about  taking 
me  back.  Says  I  to  myself,  Joe,  if  you  could  get  to  see  the  madam 
herseU,  and  have  a  talk  with  ber,  she'd  hear  to  reason;  so  I  came.  I 
know'cl,  for  you  told  me,  as  how  she'd  refused,  but  she'll  think  better 
on't." 

She  turned  \vit!;out  :my  reply,  and  picked  a  bud  or  two  from  a 
blooming  branch  nenr  her.  Joseph's  lank  face  assumed  an  expres. 
s;o;i  of  defiance  and  bull-dog  tenacity,  as  he  said  a  little  louder, 

"  We  was  old  Mends,  the  madam  and  me  was,  and  I  ceunts  on  it- 
She  an't  going  to  say  good-bye  to  th,-  prist  in  that  way  " 

Lisle  raised  his  eyebrows  quizzica'ly  as  this  "ol  1  friendship"  was 
alluded  to,  but  supposing  it  was  merely  a  reference  to  the  protection 
he  himself  had  often  rallied  her  upon,  when  Joseph  had  been  in 
their  service,  he  said  with  a  shade  of  sarcasm, 

"Oh  yes;  I  know  she  treated  you  with  most  distinguished  con- 
sideration. It  breaks  hei  heart  to  refuse  you,  but  she  is  compered 
to  do  so." 

"  Such  friends  as  we  might  be,  too  !"  Joseph  pleaded  with  a  glance 
at  her. 

he  maintained  the  same  silence,  and  Lisle  who  again  replied, 

"Mrs.  Sterling  has  serious  objections  against  employing  her 
'•friends'1  in  any  menial  capacity,  and  decides  to  employ  less  distin- 
guished people." 

"  Mrs.  Sterling  says  so,  does  she  1  Mrs.  Sterling.  He,  hel  Well, 
now!" 

She  turned  upon  him  as  the  taunting  words  reached  her,  and 
holding  back  the  hand  Lisle  had  raised,  she  stopped  the  descending 
blow  so  well  merited  for  his  insolence,  and  with  utter  defiance  writ- 
ten in  every  line  of  her  pale  face,  she  said,  pointing  toward  the 
street — 

"There  lies  your  way,  sir.  Go  !  Into  my  service  you  never  enter 
again,  come  what  may  !" 

Lisle  looked  upon  her  in  surprise  at  the  anger  she  displayed. 
Never  before  had  he  seen  her  so  aroused.  Joseph,  too,  stood  one 
moment  spell-bound  by  i  ,  and  it  was  with  marked  respect  and  hu- 
mility that  he  spoke  the  next  words. 

"  I  begs  your  p,ir,":on.  ma'am.  I  don't  want  to  be  one  of  th<m 
everlasting  sticktights  as  can't  be  got  rid  of  nohow ;  but  poverty 


352  T1IE  HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

makes  a  man  shnrp  af;er  every  chance  as  comes  up,  and  since  I  had 
that  there  yaller  job  on  my  bands,  I'm  poor  enough,  Lord  knows  !" 

"  So  you  really  had  the  yellow  fever,  did  you  ?"  Lisle  asked  with 
a  gleam  of  cnupas-ion  for  the  melancholy  looking  wretch. 

"Yes,  and  about  the  yallerest  on  it,  I  reckon.  Didn't  know  my 
own  face  from  a  saffron-bag  when  I  got  to  see  it  again.  The  young 
doctor  can  tell  you  as  I  was  nigh  leaving  my  absence  behind  me  for 
good  and  all.  He's  a  rouser  of  a  doctor,  is  Dr.  Edward,  and  no 
mistake.  The  old  girl,  she  wanted  to  pay  him  f>r  the  dosing  he 
give  me  inside,  and  the  mustard  pickling  he  did  to  my  outside,  but 
he  wouldn't  touch  it.  The  old  lady's  fond  of  me,  Mr.  Sterling,  and 
maybe  for  her  sake  you'd  t  ike  me  back  ? ' 

"  You  are  too  fond  of  horseflesh,  and  your  turn  for  speculation 
i.-n't  appreciated.  Tue  fact  is  you  are  a  great  rascal  Joseph,"  said 
Lisle  confidentially. 

"  I've  quit  all  that,.  ST.  That  yaller  job  is  a  rouser  to  the  cm- 
science,  and  I  had  a  mind,  then,  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  two  or 
thiee  things;  but  said  I  to  myself,  'Joe,  don't  you  do  that,  for  if 
you  get  up  of  this,  you'll  be  persecuted  for  it  and  had  up  afore  the 
lawyers." 

"  I  will  try  and  do  something  for  you  in  a  day  or  two,"  said  Lisle 
kindly,  his  passing  anger  quite  forgotten  in  Joseph's  humility. 

Without  so  much  as  a  look  toward  Leonore,  Joseph  made  his 
bow,  and  left. 

Leonore  looked  at  her  husband  with  compressed  lips,  and  he  saw 
that  his  relenting  humor  found  no  response  in  her  heart. 

'•  He  is  but  a  clown,  at  best,  and  doesn't  mean  to  be  impudent  as 
he  sometimes  seems,"  Lisle  said  excusingly.  She  turned  and  faced 
him  resolutely, 

"Do  you  intend  to  take  him  back  despite  my  prohibition?  Is 
this  the  '  tyrannical  rule  '  you  wish  me  to  exercise  in  our  house  ? ' 

He  laughed  in  real  amusement  at  her  anger,  but  he  hastened  to 
reassure  her. 

"  I  did  not  say  I  would  do  so,  Leonore,  nor  do  I  so  in' end.  I  will 
pa  e  him  elsewhere,  as  I  ea-ily  can.  It  would  be  a  pity  to  nip  in 
the  bud  such  a  sprouting  saint,  for  want  of  a  little  encouragement. 
Leonore,  may  I  ask  you  a  question  ?" 

"Certainly." 

''  Did  you  know  Joseph  before  you  found  him  in  my  service  ?" 

"  Y<  s." 

'  Then  it  must  have  been  in  Louisville,  for  I  don't  thiak  he  ever 
was  outside  the  place  till  he  came  here." 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLAR3.  i553 

"  I  never  was  in  Louisville,"  she  answered  briefly. 

"  I  thought  he  was  Louisville  born.     Then  indeed,  Leonore — " 

"  Why  must  you  talk  of  him  ?  He  and  all  things  connected  witn 
him  ;ire  hateful  to  rne.  He  destroyed  my  peace  in  our  own  house, 
dear  Lisle,  and  I  cannot  consent  to  have  him  here.  That  is  all." 

The  pleasure  they  were  enjoying  in  their  ramble  was  destroyed, 
and  by  tacit  agreement  they  walked  thoughtfully  back  to  the 
house.  Lisle's  philosophy  soon  banished  the  passing  cloud  from 
his  spirit,  but  Leonore's  buoyancy  did  not  return  at  will,  and  day  by 
day  the  weight  upon  her  heart  seemed  increasing,  mysterious  as  was 
its  cause.  No  less  attentive  and  devoted  in  her  every  action  toward 
him,  she  was  pensive,  melancholy,  and  the  efforts  he  made  to'chcer 
and  enliven  her.  were  oftener  rewarded  with  rising  tears  than  by 
the  smiles  he  invoked.  All  his  tender  questioning  failed  to  elic't- 
the  cause,  and  he  was  compelled  to  resign  himself  to  this  sudden 
change  in  her,  in  utter  ignorance  of  what  caused  it.  She  seemed  at 
times  even  to  wish  to  avoid  him,  and  humoring  the  caprice  whic'.i 
he  pretended  not  to  sefi,  he  often  watched  her  pacing  to  and  fro  the 
winding  walk  that  led  from  the  unllery  out  to  the  street,  her  figure 
now  lost,  now  reappearing  through  the  shrubbery.  Thus  sitting 
and  watching  her  one  evening  at  dusk,  while  he  smoked  his  cigar, 
an  unus'ial  solicitude  prompted  him  to  offer  one  protest.  The  dew 
was  falling  heavily  and  chill,  and  he  stepped  in  for  a  veil  to  cover 
her  head  from  its  penetrating  dampness.  Part  way  down  the  walk 
his  steps  were  suddenly  arrested  by  a  sight  that  met  him  at  the 
gate  beyond.  The  figure  of  a  man  was  lurking  by  the  entrance. 
He  saw  Leouore  approach  him,  linger  for  one  ins! ant  as  if  in  collo- 
quy, and  then  they  hurriedly  separated,  the  figure  of  the  man  going 
up  the  street,  and  Leonore  at  first  hastening  her  steps,  then  resum- 
ing her  accustomed  pace  up  the  walk  she  had  been  promenading. 

Unobserved  by  her,  Lisle  returned  to  the  gallery  and  resumed  the 
seat  he  had  occupied  when  last  she  approached  it.  Leonore  came 
near  again,  hesitated,  as  if  intending  to  join  him,  then  turned  and 
went  away  one?  more.  An  impulse  of  bitterness  sealed  his  lips 
when  he  would  have  called  to  her  in  that  undecided  moment.  "  If 
she  would  thus  expose  her  health,  and  sacrifice  her  own  inclinations, 
for  the  purpose  of  more  thoroughly  deceiving  him  as  to  the  real  ob- 
ject of  those  twilight  promenades  which  he  had  heretofore  attrib- 
uted to  mere  restlessness,  let  her  accept  the  consequences.  If  she 
was  chilled  and  weary  he  was  not  responsible!  Who  was  this  other 
for  whom  she  thus  toiled  and  waited  ?"  The  next  instant  h"  re- 
proached himself  for  these  thought',  and  conquering  his  rebel  '.0113 


354  THE  110  USE  BKUItfD   XII tt.  POPLARS. 

impulse,  he  sprang  down  the  steps  and  overtook  her.     C.isting  the 
veil  over  her  head,  he  said  gently, 

"  The  dew  is  very  heavy  to-night,  Leouore  ;  are  you  not  chilly  ?" 

She  thanked  him  fur  the  act,  and  said  something  about  'going  in 
directly,1  which  he  did  not  catch.  He  took  her  hand  and  drew  it 
tluough  his  arm,  saying  lighlly, 

"Are  you  really  forsaking  your  own  roof  and  turning  into  a  sort' 
of  elegant  '  tramp  ?'    Five-aud  fifty  times  you  have  paced  up  and 
down  this  path  to-night.     I  wonder  if  you  have  peas  in  your  shoes, 
like  a  real  penitent  ?" 

"  I  shouldn't  feel  them  if  I  had." 

"  Oh,  the  peas  are  in  your  conscience  then  !  Well,  Leonore,  ono 
of  the  pilgrim.:,  thus  condemned,  lolled  his  peas  before  he  commenced 
the  expiatory  journey.  There  is  an  example  for  you." 

Eesolvcd  not  to  annoy  her  by  any  seeming  observation  of  her 
movements,  from  that  evening  he  went  out  upon  the  other  balcony 
to  smoke  his  cigar  when  he  taw  her  ready  for  her  solitary  stroll- 
Evening  by  evening  she  returned  more  composed  and  serene,  and 
satisfied  with  anything  th  \i  made  her  so,  Lisle  said  nothing  of  the 
scene  he  had  witnessed,  and  she  was  far  from  suspecting  it.  Thus 
affairs  stood  when  a  river  excursion  was  planned  by  an  ever  restless 
party  of  pleasure  seekers,  who  insisted  that  the.  Sterling  family 
should  accompany  them.  As  usual  Lisle  declined  the  invitation  for 
himself,  but  urged  its  acceptance  upon  Leonore  and  Julie,  who  were 
compelled  to  assent,  though  Leouore's  reluctance  was  evident. 
But  one  day  intervened  before  the  anticipated  excursion,  and  tlr.it, 
till  late  into  the  evening,  was  monopolized  by  guests  never  done 
•with  important  phns  and  suggestions  relative  to  it.  Restless  and 
nervous,  Leonora's  eyes  turned  ever  toward  the  theatre  of  her 
evening  walk,  and  Lisle  pitied  her  while  powerless  to  relieve.  It 
was  tc-n  o'clock  when  the  last  enthusiastic  chatterer  left,  and  with  a 
heavy  sigh,  Leonore  went  up  to  her  room. 

The  excursion  day  dawned  bright  and  cheery,  early  November  aa 
it  was.  Leonore  lo  iked  wearily  out  upon  the  waving  treetops  •• 
in  o  the  distance,  hazy  with  the  delicious  purple  glow  of  autumn. 
Julie  accosted  her  gayly  as  she  entered  the  breakfast  rocm,  asserting 
t.'iat  manied  people  were  never  good  playfellows.  She  had  no 
spir.t  to  reply,  and  Edward  changed  the  subject  by  an  announce- 
ment quite  unexpected  by  all  but  Julie  herself. 

"  Next  month  I  intend  to  make  an  excursion  compared  to  which 
this  is  but  a  babe  in  arms.  Do  you  know,  Lisle,  I'm  really  going 
to  visit  the  old  peop'.e  ?" 


X1IE   UOUSi.   liEHIND  TUB  POPLAB.3.  S55 


"  In  midwinter  ?  I  wish  you  joy  of  the  tempting  excursion.  I 
hope  you  don't  style  it  pleasure  excursion." 

"  No.  Duty  excursion  would  be  moro  literal.  You  know  I  am 
mother's  Benjamin,  and  my  presence  must  be  urgent  to  her,  when 
father  has  really  expended  twelve  cents  in  postage  to  tell  me  so,  as 
he  has  done  in  the  last  few  weeks." 

"  Hush,  Ed.  You  won't  give  Leonora  an  exalted  opinion  of  our 
family,  if  you  go  on.  I  haven't  told  her  its  peculiarities." 

"  Never  told  her  that  you  are  the  grandson  of  a  poetess  ?  You 
can't  have  forgotten  '  Poor  lady,  poor  lady,  you're  always  undone,' 
and  the  rest  of  it.  But  you  know  mother  used  to  affirm  that  the  old 
1  dy  had  more  sense  than  all  the  rest  of  the  Sterlings  put  together, 
crazy  as  she  was." 

"'  Crazy  T  repeated  Leonore  bending  forward  breathlessly. 
'  C:  azy  !'  " 

"Yes,  and  I'm  sadly  afraid  it  may  prove  hereditary,"  Edward  re- 
plied gravely.  "  Insanity  crops  out  so  unexpectedly,  when  it  runs  in 
families  this  way  —  almost  certain  to  reappear  in  the  third  genera- 
tion, with  the  least  disturbing  cause.  Any  great  grief  or  disappoint- 
ment, being  crossed  in  love,  or  having  a  troublesome  wife  —  Why 
what's  the  matter,  Leonore  ?'' 

Pale  and  breathless  she  leaned  forward  upon  the  table,  never  rais- 
ing her  eyes  from  Lisle's  face. 

"  You  have  frightened  her  to  death  with  your  crazy  stories  !  Come, 
Leonore.  Don't  think  of  what  he  says.  It  is  pure  nonsense." 

As  he  spoke  Lisle  raised  her  and  led  her  to  a  sofa. 

"  Lisle,  Lisle,  if  I  drive  you  into  insanity  —  oh,  good  heavens  !"  she 
exclaimed  in  terror. 


GLAD  in  heart  at  the  evident  change  for  the  better  in  Leonore's 
spirits,  Lisle  soon  dismissed  from  his  mind  the  anxious  queries  that 
had  harassed  it,  and  believing  that  once  more  the  ever  recurring 
clouds  were  bauHied  for  an  indefinite  period,  he  was  satisfied  ami 
content.  Convinced  that  he  possessed  her  entire  and  undivided  af- 
fection, why  should  he  complain  that  there  was  in  her  inmost  soul 
one  little  recess  into  which  she  could  not  suffer  even  him  to  enter  ? 
Had  he,  who  had  maintained  toward  her  a  tihnce  upon  one  im- 
portant topic,  which  seemed  even  to  himself  bordering  upon  dis- 


356  THE  HOUSE  BEHIJTD  THE  POPLARS. 

i 

honorable,  of  all  others,  the  right  to  complain  of  want  of  perfect 
confidence?  Lisle  was  just,  even  where  he  felt  most  strongly.  He 
had  asked  himself  the  question  before  he  ever  made  her  his  wife, 
he  had  no  occasion  to  answer  it  differently  now.  And  content  with 
the  measure  of  happiness  bestowed  upon  him,  he  sauntered  out  with 
his  cigar,  upon  this,  the  first  evening  of  his  temporary  desertion, 
r.nd  made  a  leisurely  tour  of  the  grounds  which  were  of  remarkable 
beauty. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  he  at  last  turned  to  go  back  to  the  house, 
and  he  quickened  his  steps  as  he  approached  the  main  pathway 
up  and  down  which  Leonore  had  pursued  her  restless  promenades. 
Their  recollection  caused  him  to  turn  toward  the  gate  where  he 
had  once  surprised  her  in  a  stolen  interview.  As  if  invoked  by 
the  act,  there,  where  it  had  stood  then,  stood  now  the  figure  of  a 
man,  as  if  waiting  for  some  one  who  now  came  not;  for  in  his  im- 
patience he  moved  ever  and  anon  as  if  hesitating  yet  wishing  to 
enter  the  gateway. 

For  some  moments  Lisle  stood  still  and  watched  him.  It  was  im- 
possible to  examine  him  in  detail  at  such  a  distance,  and  with  as 
much  caution  as  possible  Lisle  approached  him.  Simultaneously, 
wearying  of  his  watch,  or  feeling  that  he  might  be  observed,  the 
figure  glided  away.  Hastily  Lisle  reached  the  gate  an  1  stopped  to 
listen.  A  light,  fleet  step  fell  upon  his  ear.  Wh:\t  gentleman  would 
thus  lurk  around  another's  house,  what  common  man  could  have 
any  errand  which  rendered  such  caution  necessary  ?  This  mysteri- 
ous being,  whoever  he  was,  could  be  none  other  than  Leonore's  un- 
known visitant ;  he  was  ignorant  of  her  absence  from  home,  of ! 
which  she  had  had  no  means  of  informing  him.  and  doubtlessly  this 
was  the  subject  of  her  restless  anxiety  during  the  company  be-tor- 
tured  evening  preceding,  when  it  had  been  impossible  for  her  to 
steal  out  to  her  tryst.  The  conviction  was  not  a  pleasant  one  to 
Lisle,  despite  his  philosophy. 

Lis^  lighted  another  cigar  as  he  resumed  his  favorite  seat  on  the 
balcony;  but  his  serenity  was  ruffle  1,  and  nothing  pi  ased  him. 
The  air  was  chilly,  and  he  shrank  from,  it;  the  cigar  its  If  seemed  nf 
another  brand,  and  he  threw  it  away  in  disgust.  The  figure  at  t.  e 
gale  came  between  him  and  all  peace,  and  under  the  sudden  im- 
pulse he  sent  for  the  servant  who  filled  Joseph's  old  place  in  tho 
grounds. 

"  James,  see  that  you  keep  the  gates  well  locked  while  the  family 
are  away.  This  shrubbery  furnishes  too  good  a  lurking  place  lor 
thieves  and  vagabonds."  , 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  357 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  kept  them  always  locked  when  I  first  came,  but  the 
madam  told  me  not." 

lt  The  madam  is  gone  now,  and  there  are  too  many  prowlers 
around." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  was  watching  one  myself  these  two  days,  and  he  left 
here  only  a  bit  ago." 

"  What  was  he  like?" 

"  A  regular  rough,  sir.  That's  what  I'd  call  him.  Anyway,  he's 
a  poor  man,  and  poor  people  an't  safe  to  have  around  unless  they've 
business."' 

Not  stopping  to  analyze  if  his  own  prejudice  were  not  about  as  il- 
liberal as  James'  philosophy,  Lisle  intrenched  himself  behind  his 
plea  of  "common  prudence,"  and  at  length  reasoned  himself  back 
into  something  like  philosophy.  Resolved  to  avoid  a  similar  annoy- 
ance the  succeeding  evening,  he  went  out  directly  after  dinner,  and 
having  spent  the  whole  evening  a  way,  returned  late,  and  went  to 
sleep  in  serene  unconsciousness  of  a  letter  awaiting  him  upon  th  < 
dressing  table.  It  was  the  first  thing  he  saw  when  he  arose  next 
morning,  and  as  he  leisurely  dressed  he  thought  idly  of  the  strange 
address  scrawled  upon  its  face. 

"For  L.  Sterling,"  and  hardly  curious  as  to  it,  he  left  it  till  quite 
rer'y  to  descend  to  breakfast.  "For  L.  Sterling,"  he  said  half 
audibly  as  he  at  last  raised  it  and  broke  the  seal,  and  read, 

"  I  a~ks  pardon  For  writin'  to  yu  at  All,  but  bein'  that  f  >r  2  dais 
i  hev  watcd  FTopin'  to  se  yu,  and  To-day  likewise  wated  Hopiu'  in 
vane  lil  Pitchdark,  I  cum  this  mornin'  to  ask  for  yu,  an  the  Poarter 
driv  me  off;  i  wan  to  tell  yu  as  him  as  was  sic  is  dangeruser  agen, 
an'  yu'd  bes  cum  out  lur  a  day  or  to,  cs  ther's  no  Kno\v,in'  what  may 
luipen',  lice  is  al  the  Time  askin'  fur  yu,  an'  won't  rest  Easy  til  yu 
cum.  With  mutch  resoec,  tho  Wilt  very  poor,  this  is  From  your 
Faethful  Torn." 

Lisle  read  this  half  illegible  scrawl  the  second  time,  unable  to 
make  anything  of  it,  before  the  idea  flashed  across  him  that  it  was 
not  intended  for  himself.  "  L.  Sterling  "  was  an  address  no  less 
applicable  to  Leonore,  and  strange  as  it  seemed,  it  was  but  in  keep- 
ing with  the  letter  itself  manifestly  written  by  an  unready  pen.  1  low 
came  the  letter  here  at  all  ?  Some  one  about  him  knew,  probably 
James,  whose  business  it  was  to  answer  the  bell.  He  was  busy  at 
the  moment  upon  the  gallery,  and  stepping  out  Lisle  raised  the 
letter  before  him.  "James,  dl.l  you  take  in  this  letter  yesterday  ?'' 

"  No,  sir,  Mrs.  Perkins  took  it  herself,  as  the  man  who  brought  it 
wouldn't  give  it  to  anybody  less." 

"Who  brought  it!" 


358  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THE   POPLAR3. 

"That  fellow  who's  been  hanging  round  here  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  So,  this  man  was  but  an  emissary  between  her  and  another," 

Lis'e  said  to  himself  as  he  went  in  to  breakfast.     Mrs.  Perkins  w  \s 

waiting  to  do  the  honors  of  the  table,  according  to  the  old  familiar 

style  which  she  remembered  in  Fitzjames'  time,  and  during  Lisle'? 

young  bachelor  days,  and  she  looked  up  in  surprise  as  he  entered 

with  more  of  his  old  time  misanthropy  expressed  on  his  face  than 

;  she  had  seen  since  his  marriage.     "  I  found  a  letter  in  my  room,  this 

|  morning,  addressed  in  a  rather  peculiar  fashion.     Did  you  put  it 

there,  and  do  you  know  who  brought  it :"" 

"Take  the  letter  I  did,  but  as  to  knowing  who  he  was  which 
brought  it,  I'm  glad  to  say  I  don't.  I'm  an  honest,  respectable 
woman,  and  always  have  been,  as  you,  which  have  known  me  so 
long,  can  tfstify.  Him  that  brought  it  may  bo  honest,  too,  but  he 
w.isu't  wholesome  company  for  the  likes  of  you  or  me.  What  he'd 
wanted  a-prowiinir  round  the  house  these  two  days,  Lord  knows  ! 
which  it's  my  opinion  he  brought  tha  letter  at  last  just  for  an  excuse, 
though  he  made  such  a  fuss  about  who  he'd  give  it  to,  and  who 
he  wouldn't,  making  me  promise  over  and  over  to  give  it  just 
according  to  the  directions  as  was  on  it.'' 

<;  And  didn't  he  ask  to  see  me  at  all  V 

"Laws,  no,  sir,  being  as  it  wasn't  you  he  wanted  to  see,  if  any- 
body. The  way  of  it  all  was  this.  D.iy  before  yesterday  when 
cook  went  to  the  garden  for  the  salad,  she  saw  this  man  a-hanging 
round  the  yard  like  as  if  he  was  looking  for  somebody.  Cook 
thought  it  strange,  but  being  as  she  is  a  modest,  quiet-spoken  young 
woman,  she  didn't  let  on  about  it.  Afterwards,  James,  he  saw  him, 
too,  walking  around  on  all  sides  of  he  house  and  looking  up  at  the 
windows  anxious-like.  Two  or  three  hours  he  s!^!d  a-qucptioning 
of  the  h-use  a>  never  answered  him  back  a  word,  and  James  got 
worried  like  and  came  out  en  him  of  a  sudden.  All  he  said  back, 
-.  that  he  was  waiting  to  see  the  madam,  and  when  he  was  told  she 
w  is  gon-i  off  a  pleasuring  and  wouldn't  be  back  under  three  or  four 
day?,  he  went  away,  nnd  James  thought  tint  was  the  last  of  him. 
But  no,  back  he  came  again  yesterday,  and  no'hing  would  do  but 
he  must  see  me.  So  1  s'eeked  mv  hair  and  put  on  my  new  cap,  nnd 
o-.it  I  went  to  the  gate,  for  he  didn't  want  to  come  in,  then.  Says 
he,  '  You  are  the  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Perkins,  be  you  ? — though,  how 
he  knowed  my  n-;ine  I  don't  know  —  and  says  I,  'yes,  of  course, 
who  else  1  which  Mrs.  Drew  was  once  my  name,  and  as  Drew  and 
Pci  kins  I've  been  Mr.  Sterling's  housekeeper  many  a  year,  young -AS 
I  look.'  Then  said  he,  « I  don't  care  uothin'  about  that.  I  only 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  rorLARS.  359 

want  to  know  if  you  are  true  and  fait'iful  to  the  madam,  and  can  be 
trusted !'  I  said,  '  I'm  a  Baptist  Christian  which  does  my  duty  by 
the  madam  as  is  as  sweet  a  lady  as  you'd  wish  to  know.'  He 
Deemed  kind  of  touched  when  he  found  I  was  a  Baptist  and  spoke  a 
kind  word  for  the  lady,  and  said  he,  'so  she  is  sweet,  ain't  she.' 
Then  he  showed  me  the  letter,  and  sa}rs  he,  '  Here's  a  letter  as  I've 
writ  for  her,  and  though  its  writ  too  poor  for  her  to  look  on,  she 
ought  to  get  it  the  minute  she  comes  home;'  and  ?ay  he,  '  will  you 
see  she  gets  it  all  safe,  madam  V  He  gave  me  the  letter  when  I  said 
I  would,  and  sure  enough  the  directions  on  it  was  her's.  So  then 
he  went  away  for  good,  and  I  put  the  le'ter  on  the  dressing-table  to 
wait  for  her  coming  home.  That's  the  whole  story." 

''  Very  well,  Mrs.  Perkins,  but  in  future  when  letters  are  handed 
you  for  any  one,  keep  them  yourself  till  you  give  them  into  the  very 
hand  of  the  one  to  whom  they  are  written.  This  letter  was  directed 
merely  '  For  L.  Sterling,'  and  I  mig'it  have  read  it  by  mistake." 

"  Which  it's  little  Mrs.  Sterling  would  mind  if  you  had,  the 
sweet  lady  as  loves  you  ten  times  better  than  herself!" 

Not  caring  to  prolong  the  conversation,  Lisle  went  out,  feeling 
that  no  farther  light  could  be  thrown  upon  the  subject,  which  never- 
theless tormented  him  during  the  succeeding  days.  Who  was  it 
whose  illness  had  caused  her  so  much  anxiety  1  this  invalid  who  was 
pronounced  "  dangerouser  "  by  the  writer  of  the  letter  so  evidently 
in  her  confidence.  Who  demanded  her  presence  and  could  not  be 
comforted  without  her  \  With  whom  should  she  remain  for  "  a  day 
or  two,"  forsaking  him,  her  husband,  and  their  mutual  home? 
Having  learned  FO  much  of  her  secret,  what  might  remain  for  him 
to  learn  ?  For  the  first  moment  his  brain  reeled  at  a  wild,  terrible 
suspicion  that  crossed  it.  Impossible,  she  could  not  be  faithless  to 
him,  could  not  abuse  his  unlimited  trust  and  confidence  in  her,  by 
wronging  him  under  the  very  armor  of  security  such  faith  gave  her ! 
Yet  impossible  as-he  pronounced  it,  the  doubt  remained. 

It  was  with  mingled  emotions  that  he  received  Lsonore,  when  at 
the  close  of  the  week  she  returned  with  the  gay  party  of  which  she 
w  s  at  once  the  leader  and  the  delight,  and  with  the  announcement 
that  it  lacked  but  half  an  hour  of  dinner-time,  he  left  her  to  make 
her  toilet,  sure  that  the  waiting  letter  would  consume  a  portion 
of  the  time. 

That  it  had  done  so,  was  evident  when  she  descended  in  clemi- 
dress,  her  face  haggard  and  anxious,  and  traces  of  tears  in  her  eyes. 
The  furtive  glance  Lisle  turned  upon  her  awoke  his  pity.  Gentle, 
tender,  loving  as  she  was,  she  could  not  be  the  guilty  thing  he  had 


360  THE   HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

dared  to  think  her.  Oh,  why  would  she  not  tmst  and  confide  in 
him !  how  could  he  win  her  to  do  so !  All  that  was  possible  to 
morfcil,  he  would  do  for  her  would  she  but  permit  him ;  but  if  she 
thus  sealed  her  lips  and  would  not  confide  in  him,  what  could  he 
do?  Would  she  obey  this  summons  and  add  one  more  to  her  sev- 
eral mysterious  departures  ?  What  now  would  become  of  the 
promise  she  had  voluntarily  given  to  leave  him  thus  no  more? 
Could  he,  if  he  would,  restore  it  to  her,  without  awaking  her  sus- 
picions that  lie  knew  more  than  he  wished  her  to  believe  ?  Did 
generosity  itself  require  that  he  should  be  thus  tender  of  her  feelings 
vhih  his  own  were  lacerated?  But  one  conclusion  was  arrived  at 
jf  she  desired  his  generosity  in  any  way,  she  knew  she  had  but  to 
claim  it.  He  would  w:iit  for  her  to  do  so ;  and  day  by  day  he  of- 
fered her  every  tacit  encouragement  to  ask  it.  But  she  remained 
sili  nt,  pensive,  SOUK  times  serious.  She  would  keep  her  promise 
to  him ;  that  was  evident,  if  she  really  felt  any  desire  to  recall  or 
violate  it;  and  LislcV heart  beat  reassuringly. 

It  was  Edward's  departure  that  became  a  daily  topic  now,  and 
while  others  wondered  that  he  should  have  chosen  the  dreariest 
time  of  the  year  for  a  visit  he  could  pay  at  any  time,  Julie  kept  her 
own  counsel,  and  if  she  sometimes  wore  a  serious,  troubled  air,  not 
habitual  to  her,  none  thought  anything  of  it.  The  tender  relation- 
ship between  herself  and  E  iward  received  the  natural  construction, 
and  while  each  knew  it,  neither  cared,  only  wishing  that  for  once 
public  rumors  were  true.  Hartley's  name  was  unspoken  by  all, 
Leonore  herself  at  ease  about  him  so  far  as  Julie  was  concerned,  and 
Li:-le  quite  unsuspicious. 

In  such  a  position  were  affairs,  when  Lisle  was  suddenly  sum- 
moned to  Louisville  on  important  business.  Loth  as  he  was  at  all 
times  to  leave  home,  he  was  doubly  so  now.  He  felt  instinctively 
that  some  impending  calamity  threatened  him,  yet  reason  urged 
him  to  resist  the  presentiment.  Despite  his  efforts,  the  foreboding 
remained,  and  he  made  an  effort  to  induce  Leonore  to  accompany 
him.  She  shook  her  head  and  smiled  as  she  spoke  the  negative  he 
anticipated.  He  urged  the  question,  and  she  burst  into  tears. 
Pained  beyond  expression,  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  soothed  her 
as  one  soothes  a  child,  and  said  tenderly, 

"  You  can  well  understand  that  I  dread  to  leave  you  in  such  a 
state  of  mind  as  this.  Is  there  any  place  you  would  rather  stay  than 
in  this  great,  lonely  house,  it  indeed  you  will  not  go  with  me?" 

She  shook  her  head  and  strove  to  recall  her  smiles. 

"Think  again,  Leonore.     I  will  take  you  to  any  spit  this  side 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  361 

the  grave— blindfold  if  you  wish  me  to  be  so — or  you  shall  go  alone, 
and  when  you  send  me  word  that  you  have  arrived  in  safety,  I  will 
slart  upon  my  journey  with  a  lighter  heart." 

"  Where  should  I  wish  to  stay  except  here  in  the  only  home  I 
have  ever  known — here  \vhere  all  the  happiness  of  my  life  is  cen- 
tred ?  Lonely  I  certainly  shall  be,  but  not  more  unhappy  than  I 
mu-^t  be  anywhere." 

"  So  you  admit  that  you  are  unhappy  ?  Oh,  Leonore,  why  won't 
you  trust  me  ?  You  have  not  so  true  a  friend  in  this  wide  world, 
nor  one  who  would  believe  in,  and  trust  you  so  implicitly,  however 
circumstances  might  seem  to  condemn  you." 

She  bent  her  face  in  her  hands  and  murmured  brokenly, 

"  Oh,  stop,  stop.  Leave  me  to  my  fate ;  I  am  not  worth  one 
heart  throb !" 

'•  Yet  God  knows  every  throb  of  my  heart  is  yours,  every  tear  you 
Bhed  is  wrung  from  its  core.  Oli,  Lcouore,  I  too  suffer,  but  only 
through  you.  You  do  not  know  what  storms  you  set  raging  in  my 
Foul,  what  battles  I  fight  with  my  own  terrible  fancies!" 

"I  will  weep  no  more,  dear  Lisle.  I  am,  as  you  said,  nervous  and 
ill,  and  if  I  am  silent  when  you  would  have  me  speak,  it  is  oaly 
because  nothing  I  could  ask  or  you  can  grant,  would  make  me  any 
happier.  I  tell  you,  Lisle,  I  a:n  paying  the  penalty  of  a  mistaken 
past,  and  it  is  as  heavy  as  I  can  bear  in  silence.  To  speak  it  would 
kill  me.  Bear  with  me,  dear  Lisle,  and  above  all  love  and  trust  me.'1 

He  did,  supremely,  as  he  folded  her  to  his  breast,  and  his  heart 
rcpro  ichedhim  for  the  base  suspicions  he  had  harbored  against  her. 
The  few  days  that  intervened  before  his  departure  were  passed  as 
usual,  all  seeming  cheerful  and  happy. 

"  What  arc  we  to  bring  the  ladies  on  our  return,  Lisle?''  Edward 
asked  upon  the  last  moming  they  breakfasted  together.  "  I  believe 
tLat  since  the  days  of  'Beauty  and  the  Beast,'  he  who  departs  is 
expected  to  return  with  welcome  gifts.  I've  no  idea  what  is-certain 
to  be  acceptable  to  a  lady,  except  a  box  of  gloves.  What  is  Leoiioi  e's 
number  r" 

"  I  believe  she  wears  sixes  now,  though  before  she  was  married 
she  revelled  in  five  and  three-quarters.  Ila'cyon  days,  those '  before 
I  was  married,'  of  "every  woman's  memory!  The  fatest  one  who 
walks  abroad,  could  be  spanned  round  the  waist  by  one's  two 
hands,  and  the  foot  which  now  aspires  beyond  No.  fives,  was  at  ease 
in  one  and  a  half,  a':l  '  before  I  was  married,'  if  one  is  to  credit  the 
self-inade  statement.  One  is  inclined  to  believe  that  matrimony 


362  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS. 

must  have  most  prodigious  effecK  What  did  you  -wear  in  tLa 
glove  department,  Leonore  ?  Fives,  wasn't  it  ?" 

"For  shame,  Lisle.  I  wear  now  just  what  I  always  did.  Plain 
sixes." 

"  Wondrous  development  you  must  have  had  as  an  infant,  as 
you  say  '  always.' " 

'•Thank  you,  I  didn't  cut  teeth  in  'Alexander's  best,'"  she  said 
smiling. 

The  morning  flew  rapidly  by,  and  the  hour  of  parting  came  all  loo 
soon. 

"  Be  ns  happy  as  you  can,  Leonore,  and  be  assured  I  shall  return 
to  you  at  the  curliest  p  ssible  moment !"  Lisle  said  chceringly  as  ho 
clnsped  her  in  his  arms  at  parting. 

Edward  awaited  him  on  the  gallery,  having  spoken  his  adieus, 
and  Julie  was  nowhere  to  be  seen  But  a  handkerchief  waved  from 
her  window  as  they  drove  down  the  street,  evidenced  that  she  was 
not  unmindful  of  the  departure  she  could  not  summon  enough 
courage  to  face. 

Left  thus  to  the  silence  and  loneliness  of  the  great  house,  its  very 
space  and  grandeur  possessed  a  sort  of  terror  for  Leonore  in  the 
nervous,  unstrung  state  of  mind  she  was  in.  Creeping  shadows 
seemed  to  lurk  in  each  obscure  corner,  and  every  noise  from  without 
startled  her  like  a  dreaded  presence.  For  the  first  time  she  realized 
how  much  there  was  around  her  to  tempt  the  avarice  of  thieves  and 
burglars,  who  of  late  had  perpetrated  many  acts  of  unprecedented 
boldness,  and  escaped  unharmed. 

While  Lisle  was  with  her  she  had  turned  a  careless  car  to  these 
reports  ;  bntnow  each  casual  creaking  of  a  staircase,  every  swinging 
door,  alarmecl  her,  and  at  least  a  hundred  times  during  that  first  try- 
ing night  she  sprang  up  in  terror  at  the  images  her  fancy  had  raised. 
The  morning  found  her  pale  and  weary,  and  disinclined  to  rise  ;  and 
Julie  took  her  breakfast  alone  with  no  one  to  remark  her  own  [  a'o 
face  and»swollen  eyelids. 

Leonore  came  down  to  the  parlors  towards  noon,  somewhat  re- 
freshed by  her  morning  sleep,  but  painfully  nervous,  and  st  u  ting 
yiolently  at  every  unexpected  address. 

Soon  after  she  came  down,  James  sought  her^hnt  in  hand,  ruul 
dressed  as  if  to  go  out.  He  had  received  word  that  his  .only  child 
was  dying,  and  asked  permission  to  go  it.  She  had  never  tho-ight, 
before,  whether  or  not  he  had  a  family,  and  the  ap.jeal  s'ruck  no\r 
upon  a  tender  cord.  '-Your  child  is  dying- — dying  1  Yes,  go  at 
once,  poor  man !  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  2" 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  363 

"No,  ma'am,  thank  you,  unless  you'd  be  kind  enough  to  let  me 
stay  and  comfort  my  poor  woman  for  a  day  or  two.  There's  Joseph 
Perkins,  the  housekeeper's  husband,  will  be  glad  to  ta'ke  my  place 
•while  I'm  gone.  He's  just  lost  his  List  place." 

<;  Oh,  yes,  let  him  take  ir.  lie  will  do  well  enough  for  a  day  or 
two." 

How  could  he  think  of  such  homely  details  while  his  little  child 
was  dying  ?  Her  morning  indolence  had  perhaps  robbed  him  of 
the  li  tie  thing's  last  smile  of  recognition  and  love!  The  self-re- 
proach tortured  her  as  no  words  could  have  done,  and  it  was  well 
for  her  that  coming  gu-  sts  f  >rced  her  thoughts  into  another  chan- 
nel, and  as  the  day  went  by  her  spirits  rallied,  and  as  she  and  Julie 
mounted  the  staircase  together  upon  their  way  to  their  rooms  late 
in  the  evening,  they  were  chatting  once  more  naturally.  The  two 
sleeping-rooms  were  contiguous,  and  leaving  open  the  door  between 
them,  they  talked  for  a  long  time  after  each  had  retired,  mutually 
feeling  the  comfort  of  such  companionship.  Sleep  overpowered 
them  by  inperoeptible  degrees,  and  at  last  all  w;>s  silent,  while  the 
low  burning  gas  threw  a  dim  light  over  the  rooms,  just  relieving 
(hem  of  total  darkness. 

Leonore  could  not  have  told  how  long  she  had  slept,  it  seemed 
not  many  minute?,  when  a  faint  noise  in  her  room  aroused  her.  Tho 
floor  creaked  under  a  cautious  tread,  then  all  was  still,  next  followei 
tint  indescribable  rustling  felt  rather  than  heard,  so  startling  to  one 
whom  it  awakens  to  a  real  sen  e  of  some  strange  presence  near. 
She  si  rove  to  rise,  but  a  deadly  weakness  enthralled  her  ;  she  would! 
have  called  aloud  in  cha'lenge,  but  the  same  deadly  nightmare 
hushed  her  voice  beyond  her  own  control.  Physically  powerless  as 
she  was,  mentally  she  was  as  self-possessed  as  ever,  and  with  a  des- 
perate courage  she  watched  and  waited  for  what  was  next  to  come. 
Reassured  by  the  breathless  hush  around  him,  the  intruder  moved 
toward  Julie's  bed,  and  cuitiously  peered  through  the  curtain3.  Evi- 
dently she  was  quite  unconscious  of  everything,  sleeping  softly  and 
profoundly ;  for  Leonore  saw  the  intruder's  hand  s'eal  under  the  pil- 
low and  withdraw  the  tiny  watch  nightly  placed  there,  and  with  hia 
clumsy  fingers  he  pushed  and  crowded  its  dangling  chain  and  little 
"  charms  "  into  hh  pocket.  Not  a  motion  escaped  her  as  she  lay 
watching  him,  and  even  before  he  turned  toward  the  flickering 
light,  she  knew  that  the  ungainly  figure  and  unagile,  if  stealthy 
movements,  were  tho-e  of  Joseph  Perkins. 

Even  as  he  thus  turned,  the  strange  spell  thafc  h-d  bound  her  was 
dissolved,  and  with  one  bound  she  was  upon,  her  feet  in  the  centre 


364  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  '^ 

of  the  room.  Not  a  cry  broke  from  her  lips,  though  as  she  thus 
sprang  up  a  quick  hand  had  turned  the  gas  quite  off  and  an  inky 
darkness  veiled  everything.  A  firm  hand  seized  her  neck  in  threat- 
cued  strangulation,  and  a  voice  that  certainly  was  not  Joseph's,  said 
warningly, 

"  You'd  best  be  quiet  now.  If  you  don't  screech  out,  nothing  an't 
going  to  happen  to  you.  Tell  a  feller  whore's  your  money  and  your 
little  traps,  and  we'll  clear  out  respectable  when  we've  took  'em." 

Her  only  reply  was  a  sudden  spring  from  the  detaining  clutch, 
and  a  screim  that  rang  out  cl'-ar  and  piercing.  Julie  echoed  it  na 
she  sprang  up  in  terror,  but  the  door  was  quickly  shut  and  securely 
bolted  b  t\vcen  them,  and  while  his  comrade  uttered  maledictions, 
Joseph  said  to  Leonore, 

"  Yon  mind  now  what  Joe  Perkins  tells  you.  If  you've  seen 
•what  you'd  no  business  to  see,  keep  mum  about  it,  or  it'll  be  the 
worse  for  you.  If  you  peach  on  me,  I'll  peach  on  you ;  and  you 
know  you  can't  stand  the  damage,  or  you'd  have  screamed  when  you 
fir.-t  see  me  here !  Slide  down  the  gallery  pillars,  Bill ;  you'll  be 
caught  if  yon  don't." 

"  You're  a  pretty  feller  to  be  speaking  out  names,  on  such  a  trip 
as  this  ere!''  was  the  surly  retort  as  the  injunction  was  obeyed. 

At  that  instant  voices  were  heard  in  the  hall,  and  Mrs.  Perkins 
ejaculated,  "  Lord  bless  us  and  save  us '"  Leonore  sprang  to  the 
door  leading  into  the  hall,  and  opened  it  wide,  as  she  called  hur- 
riedly, 

"  This  way,  this  way  !     Look  to  the  man  who  is  on  the  gallery." 

There  was  no  one  to  be  seen,  but  a  shouting  on  tho  str.-et  was 
hcml,  and  a  policeman's  voice  called  distinctly,  "I've  got  him,  I've 
got  him,"  while  on  all  sides  the  sounding  of  t';e  policemen's  alarn 
rattle  proved  that  they  were  on  the  alert.  There  w.is  no  chance  of 
escape  for  Joseph,  now  nrngling  with  the  exnt  ;d  household,  if  in- 
deed he  meant  to  have  attempted  one;  and  Mr-.  Perkins  plucked 
him  anxiously  by  the  sleeve,  as  she  asked  suspicion  ly, 

"  How  did  you  come  to  be  on  hand  so  quick  '<  which  its  slow 
enough  you  are  in  general,  and  you  not  in  bed  this  bles-ed  night !" 

"Why  you  sesthe  way  of  it  is  this.  I'd  been  out  on  a  bit  of  a 
'tear,'  to  tell  just  the  truth,  old  girl;  and  just  as  T  let  myself  into 
the  house,  I  heard  somebody  a-moving  up  in  the  hall.  I  made  sure 
it  was  you  a-waiting  up  for  in?,  a-id  says  I  to  mys  If,  Joe,  you're  in 
for  it  now,  suro,  and  so  I  stood  a-thinkiug  what  I'd  best  say  tj  save 
a-p-oing  over, — for  you're  a  strong  one  on  going  over,  old  lady, — and 
then  all  of  a  m  Hen  I  h^ercd  a  screech  in  the  madam's  room,  and  a 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND  THK   POPLARS.  3oJ 

screech  in  Miss  Julia's  as  was  worse,  and  I  made  straight  bolt,  up 
here.  It  was  as  dark  as  pitch,  and  the  doors  was  all  bolted  so  I 
couldn't  get  in  to  see  what  was  up,  and  him  as  was  up  to  mi  chief 
bolted  over  the  gallery  and  off,  and  the  police  has  got  him  now,  and 
serves  him  right !" 

Leonore  deigned  no  reply.  She  had  hastily  wrapped  herself  in  a 
dressing-gown,  and  reassured  Julie  who  understood  nothing  that  had 
occurred,  and  she  calmly  dispersed  the  little  assembly  to  talk  it  over 
among  themselves,  Mrs.  Perkins  starting  at  once  upon  a  tour  of  tho 
house  to  see  what  depredation  had  been  committed. 

As  might  have  been  anticipated  under  such  circumstances,  nothing 
was  missing  beside  some  valuable  articles  of  jewelry,  the  principal 
object  of  the  marauders  having  been  to  gain  possession  of  these, 
which  Joseph  well  knew  were  kept  in  tin  rooms  Avhere  he  had 
been  surprised.  Most  of  this  wa^  found  upon  Bill's  person  when 
arrested,  and  having  been  duly  identified,  was  restored,  Leonore  by 
some  means  having  added  tho  watch  in  Joseph's  keeping,  to  the 
other  articles  returned.  Bill  was  fully  committed  for  trial,  and 
Joseph,  unsuspected  by  all  save  Leonore  herself,  who  had  her  own 
reasons  for  protecting  him,  remained  at  large,  though  strictly 
forbidden  the  premises.  Learning  what  had  occurred,  the  faithful 
James  returned  at  once  to  his  posf,  and  quiet  was  restored.  As  if 
her  nervous  terror  had  only  warned  her  of  this  one  attempted  vio- 
lence, Leonore's  courage  and  calmness  returned,  and  she  resumed 
her  usual  avocations  serenely. 

And  :  ow  again  she  commence  1  her  restless  walks  at  dusk  along 
the  pathway  to  the  gate,  and  again  the  waiting  messenger  delivered 
his  intelligence  and  mysteriously  departed,  though  now  with  less 
danger  of  observation  than  when  Lisle's  attentive  eyes  followed  her 
every  moment. 


CHAPTER  XXXII.' 

ONE  night  during  the  second  week  of  Lisle's  absence,  Leonore 
came  at  a  late  hour  to  Julie's  bedside,  and  bent  over  her.  The  action 
woke  her  from  a  sound  sleep,  and  she  started  in  surprise.  Leonore 
placed  her  hand  gently  on  her  shoulder  and  s-dd, 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  Julie.     It  is  only  I." 

Very  ghost-like  she  looked  in  her  white  robes,  and,  but  half  reas- 
sured, Julie  exclaimed, 


306  THfc  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE   POPLARS. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Leonore ?'' 

She  bent  her  face  upon  the  pillow  beside  Julie's  own,  and  iup- 
pressing  a  sob,  said  low  anJ  earnestly, 

"  A  great  sorrow  is  slowly  falling  upon  me — greater,  heavier  than 
I  can  bear,  as  I  have  tried  to  bear  it,  silently.  Julie,  Julie,  my  very 
heart  is  breaking  hour  by  hour.  I  can  stay  here  and  suffer  it  no 
longer — I  must  leave  you  for  a  time  " 

"  For  what,  Leonore  ?     Where  will  you  go  ?" 

"  Where  duty  and  affection  call  me.  Ask  me  nothing.  I  have 
violat  d  every  instinct  of  my  heart  till  I  can  do  so  no  more.  I  must 
go,  but  I  shall  return  in  a  few  days  at  most.  I  shall  lose  iny  reason 
if  I  am  compelled  to  stay." 

"  Then  go  at  once.     Don't  think  of  me." 

Leonore  silently  kissed  her  in  reply,  and  after  a  little  time  said, 

"  I  hope  to  return  before  Lisle  ;  but  if  he  should  come  first,  give 
him  the  letter  I  have  already  written  for  him  and  which  you  will 
find  upon  my  t.ble.  I  shall  leave  before  you  are  awake.  And,  Julie, 
if  Lisle  is  very  angry,  very  bitter  against  me,  very  doubtful  of  all  he 
ever  believed  good  in  me,  be  to  me  the  sister  I  shall  so  much  need. 
I  don't  know  what  may  happen — I  dare  not  think  of  it.  I  only 
know  that  I  have  no  choice — that  I  cannot  longer  support  the  exist- 
ence I  am  leading !" 

"  Hush,  Leonore  ;  don't  talk  of  dying  in  that  bitter  way.  Only 
tell  me  that  you  forgive  me  for  all  my  errors  past,  present,  and  to 
come  ;  for  I  am  treating  you  like  a  hypocrite,  Leonore  !" 
-  "Not  so,  Julie.  You  are  lovable  and  good — as  I  would  be  had  I 
the  power.  Only  let  us  promise  to  love  and  cling  to  each  other 
whatever  may  happen  us.  Do  you  promise  this,  Julie  ?" 

"  It  is  I  who  should  ask  that  were  I  like  you.  '  Promise?'  Yes, 
forever." 

With  a  last  embrace,  Leonore  left  her  as  noislessly  as  she  had  came, 
and  through  the  remainder  of  the  night  busied  herself  with  the  prep- 
arations for  her  departure. 

Later  in  the  morning  Julie  unclosed  her  eyes,  heavy  from  want  of 
sleep.  It  was  one  year  this  day  since  Lonis  Hartley  had  made  her 
that  visit  in  the  summer-house,  dining  which  she  had  named  the 
limit  for  his  patient  waiting,  and  two  letters  had  lately  reached  her, 
reminding  her  of  her  promise.  He  would  come  to  claim  its  fulfi.l- 
meiit,  of  that  she  had  been  assured.  There  was  not  a  hope  left ; 
and  wearily  she  ro=e  and  descended  to  the  deserted  parlor.-.  She 
was  not  even  surprised  when  she  received  a  tiny  envelope  in  his 
well-known  direction.  In  response  she  briefly  named  an  hour  for  an 


THE   HOUSE  BEIIIXD   THE   POPLARS.  367 

interview,  and  for  the  first  time  Louis  Hartley  crossed  Lisle  Sterling's 
threshold.  The  interview  was  but  brief,  and  at  its  close  Julie  threw 
her  mantle  around  her  and  hurriedly  sought  Mrs.  Bertram.  She 
would  not  leave  the  house  quite  soliiary  at  Lisle's  arrival,  should  he 
reach  it  before  Leonore's  return,  and  Leonore's  letter  to  him  must  bo 
left  in  trusty  hands,  and  her  wishes  obeyed  by  one  who  would  do 
all  in  her  power  to  soften  the  double  blow  thus  inflicted  upon  him. 
A.  few  forcible  words  mude  Mrs.  Bertram  acquainted  with  the  whole 
condition  of  affairs,  and  Julie  would  not  suffer  her  to  protest. 

'"Wait  till  Lisle  ut  least  returns?'  I  can't.  It  would  only  make 
matters  worse,  and  they  are  bad  enough  already.  I  won't  insult 
him  by  being  married  under  his  roof.  I  suppose  people  will  call  it 
an  elopement ;  but  I  don't  care.  I'm  only  glad  Leonore,  too,  is 
absent.  Since  it  is  enevitable,  all  has  happened  as  smoothly  as 
possible.  A  liitle  ride  to  the  regular  city  'Gretna  Gi'een,' — ryou 
know  where  that  is, — a  clergyman  in  want  of  a  fee,  and  that  L  the 
last  of  ine! ' 

Mr-.  Bertram  took  her  by  the  arm.  "  Julie  Kelley,  I've  a  splendid 
dark  closet,  just  made  to  receive  bad  children !  I've  a  mind  to  shut 
you  in  it  till  your  senses  return." 

''  I  never  h  id  any.  If  I  had  I  shouldn't  be  in  my  present  posi- 
tion." 

"Julie,  do  you  remember  Phebe  Venard,  who  married  nobody 
knows  who,  despite  the  remonstrances  of  her  friends  ?  She  is  a  poor 
deserted  woman,  her  fortune  already  squandered,  and  hourly  ex- 
pected back  here  to  claim  the  protection  of  her  brother,  her  father 
being  dead.'' 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  I  can't  weep  over  trouble  in  general  when  I've 
BO  much  in  pnrticular.  I'll  risk  my  husband  squandering  my  for- 
tune, for  it  is  too  small  to  be  noticeable ;  and  if  he  deserts  me,  all 
•well/' 

"  What  a  crazy  creature !" 

"There  is  s-o  much  method  in  my  madness,  that  I  shall  send  you 
Bay  valedictory  address  to  Lisle,  whom  I  never  expect  to  forgive  me. 
Leonore  will,  and  I  shall  write  her  when  all  is  over.  Now  say  good- 
bye, for  I  must  be  off.  Go  to  Lisle  the  hour  he  comes  back,  and  do 
what  you  can  to  make  him  hear  to  reason  " 

She  was  gone  with  no  more  formal  leavetaking  than  this.  Plainly 
she  expected  neither  sympathy  nor  forgiveness  for  herself. 

An  hour  later  a  carriage  stopped  at  the  gate,  and  Julie  was  helped 
into  it  by  a  gentleman  who  raised  his  hat  in  mock  salutation  to  ihs 
house  as  they  wcie  driven  away.  James  noticed  it  and  thought  tho 


SG3  THE  HOUSE  BKHIND  THIS  POPLARS. 

action  strange,  and  the  maid,  Margaret,  upon  entering  Julie's  room 
found  her  trunks  packed  and  labelled  "  to  be  delivered  according 
to  orders  when  given.1'  But  »either  said  a  word  of  it,  and  there 
was  nothing  suspicious  in  the  mere  fact  that  she  had  gone  out  for  a 
drive.  If  Margaret  stood  aghast  one  moment  ;it  lier  discovery,  and 
was  fully  five  minutes  recalliug  her  imperturbability,  no  one  knew 
it.  Scarcely  had  she  succeeded  in  doing  so  when  the  gat»  lei 
was  rung  violently,  and  Mrs.  Bertram  rushed  in,  inquiring  eargerly 
for  }lLs  Julie.  James  was  about  to  carry  her  a  note  which  Juiie 
had  instructed  him  to  deliver,  and  he  handed  it  to  her  for  all  reply. 
The  enclosure  to  herself  contained  but  the  one  word,  "good-bye," 
the  other  was  for  Lisle. 

Mrs.  Bertram  threw  up  her  hands  with  a  little  gesture  of  con- 
sternation and  despair,  and  then  rushed  out  as  rapidly  as  she  h  id 
entered.  James  saw  her  hasten  down  the  street  toward  the  Venards, 
and  then  wonueringly  relocked  the  gate.  But  it  seemed  the  bell 
would  never  cease  ringing  to-day,  as  just  at  dusk  it  pealed  forth 
another  summons,  this  time  for  the  master  of  the  house  himself. 

"How  are  you,  James ?"  was  the  cheerful  salute  he  received  as 
Lisle  hurried  up  the  path  to  the  house.  Bursting  open  the  door 
rather  than  swinging  it  b  ick,  he  came  full  against  Margaret,  who 
lell  pule  and  breathless  against  the  wall.  What  a  series  of  calamities 
was  here — the  mistress  absent  on  one  of  her  mysterious  journeys,  the 
young  miss  gone  no  one  knew  where !  Margaret  felt  herself  unequal 
to  the  emergency,  and  uttered  not  a  word.  Lisle  threw  open  the 
parlor  door.  "Shut  up,  of  course!"  he  soliloquized,  and  turning, 
ran  up  stairs.  His  wife's  room  was  solitary  and  deserted  also,  and 
opening  the  doors,  he  called  her  name.  Still  no  reply,  and  with  a 
sinking  heart  he  rapped  on  Julie's  door,  then  opened  it.  Still  no 
one!  He  rang  the  bell,  and  Margaret  summoned  courage  and  ap- 
peared. 

•'  Where  aie  t'ue]ladies,  M  .rgarot  ?    Where  is  my  wife  ?" 

"  Not  in,  six.  Shall  I  see  if  she  is  at  Mrs.  Bertram's  ?"  for  Mar _a- 
ret  hud  a  woman's  talent  for  putting  another  in  the  breach,  and  felt 
instinctively  that  Mrs.  Bertram  must  know  more  oi  this  household 
flitting  than  any  other.  Reassured  by  the  evasion  he  did  not  re- 
mark, Lisle  dismissed  her  upon  her  errand,  and  awaited  her  return. 
She  came,  and  silently  handing  him  a  sealed  envelope,  left  him.  Ho 
broke  the  seal  impatiently,  and  read.  It  was  from  his  wife. 

"  Lisle,  dear  Lisle,  forgive  me,  however  you  may  at  first  bluue 
me  for  what  must  seem  strange  if  not  heartless  in  my  conduct ;  1 
am,  called  away  from  our  home,  dear  Lisle,  and  I  must  go.  I  c  in 


THE   HOUSE    BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  369 

refuse  no  longer,  I  can  no  longer  ttifle  the  voice  of  my  own  heart. 
When  you  so  generously  offered  to  take  me  to  any  place  where  I 
might  prefer  to  pass  the  weary  hours  of  your  absence,  I  told  you, 
truly,  that  I  w;is  better  iu  my  own  home  and  preferred  to  remain  in 
it.  But  other  circumstances  now  exist,  and  /  must  go.  Do  not  say 
that  I  thus  break  my  solemn  promise  to  you.  Were  you  here  now 
you  would  restore  it  to  me,  as  you  tacitly  did  when  you  told  me  to 
go  anywhere  this  side  the  grave,  that  I  might  choose.  Believe  me, 
my  ever  beloved  husband,  wherever  I  may  be,  and  whatever  I  do,  I 
am  yours  most  entirely  and  devotedly.  You  see  I  would  not  leave 
you  this  time  in  the  'utter  silence'  of  which  you  once  complained, 
I  would  not  go  at  all  could  I  refuse  without  being  an  unworthy, 
heartless  wretch  !  Yours  with  an  aching  but  loving  heart, 

LliONORE." 

At  first  he  was  not  even  surprised.  Her  affectionate  adieu,  that 
"  first  letter  "  for  which  he  had  vainly  plead — was  his  at  last,  and  he 
regarded  it  again  with  loving  interes'.  A  sudden  cloud  darkened 
his  brow,  and  hastily  tearing  open  his  wallet  he  drew  forth  that  long- 
preserved  envelope  addressed  to  his  uncle,  Mr.  Fitzj  imes,  which  he 
had  once  produced  for  family  inspection,  declaring  it  would  yet  give 
him  a  clue  to  the  writer.  Laying  it  upon  the  letter  just  received,  he 
compared  the  chirography  of  the  two.  It  was  one  and  the  same — • 
there  was  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  His  heart  beat  suffocatingly 
as  he  re.vlized  the  fact.  This  was  why  she  had  never  dared  to  write 
him  one  word,  despite  his  pleadings!  What  was  the  reason  f;r  ail 
this  mystery  ?  What  could  she  have  had  in  common  with  Mr.  Fitz- 
james  whom  she  professed  never  to  have  known,  and  how  was  it 
that  after  so  much  duplicity  she  should  have  betrayed  herself  at  last  ? 
What  was  the  secret  in  her  life  so  continually  interposing  its  hateful 
presence  between  them?  If  she  was  indeed  the  innocent  creature 
he  had  believed  her,  why  was  she  not  frank  with  him,  and  just  both 
toward  herself  and  him,  instead  of  thus  wringing  his  futh  in  her  ? 

He  did  not  hear  the  bell  ring,  and  he  we;.t  down  mechanically 
when  told  Mrs.  Bertram  was  waiting  to  speak  with  him.  She  sprang 
forward,  seized  his  hand,  tried  to  speak,  but  burst  into  tears.  Ho 
saw  that  she  was  terribly  agitated,  and  controlling  his  own  emotion 
he  led  her  to  a  sofa  and  sat  down  opposite  her. 

''What's  the  matter,  Mrs.  Bertram?  Do  not  distre.s  yourself,  I 
know  all." 

"  No,  no.  I  kept  back  the  wors',  hoping  to  spare  you  the  knowl- 
edge. I  have  another  letter  which  I  had  not  the  courage  to  send 
you  with  Leonore's.  It  is  better  you  should  learn  all  from  Julie  her- 
self, than  to  hear  it  from  others.  Read." 

She  handed  him  the  biief  letter  Julie  had  left  for  hjnjj 


370  THE  HOTJ8B   BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

la  the  fewest  possible  words  Julie  told  him  that  she  was  going 
away  from  his  house  to  become  Louis  Hartley's  wife,  confessed  her 
long  engagement  and  her  reasons  for  having  concealed  it.  She  asked 
no  forgiveness,  for  she  felt  that  she  deserved  none,  and  so  bade  him 
a  last  farewell.  The  letter  dropped  from  his  nerveless  fingers,  and 
he  uttered  nn  audible  groan.  It  was  incredible,  even  though  she 
herself  had  written  it ;  and  he  begged  Mr?.  Bertram  to  tell  him  all 
she  knew  of  it.  She  did  so,  but  it  WHS  little  bejoud  what  he  him- 
self knew.  He  only  learned  that  under  his  nom  de  plume  of  '  Leonard 
Horton '  he  had  followed  Julie  in  her  wanderings,  carefully  keeping 
out  of  his  way.  As  for  Mrs.  Bertram,  when  she  learned  of  him  that 
this  Mr.  '  Horton '  was  the  Louis  Hartley  of  whom  she  had  heard  so 
much,  but  never  known,  her  surprise  was  unbounded.  Julie  had 
not  hinted  this.  Had  Leonore  known  it,  and  was  this  the  secret  of 
hir  dislike  toward  him  when  they  were  all  at  the  seaside  together? 
She  asked  Lisle  the  question,  but  he  shook  his  hear).  There  was  a 
pause,  and  then  she  resumed, 

"  I  told  you  there  was  a  bare  hope  that  this  marriage  might  be 
frustrated.  Shall  I  tell  you  all  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  though  let  me  tell  you  in  advance,  that  I  am  hopeless." 
'•There  is  an  impediment  to  this  marriage  that  will  invalidate  it 
even  if  consummated.     Mr.  Venard  knows  it,  and  he  went  in  pursuit 
of  them  within  an  ho;ir  of  their  departure." 

He  was  so  utterly  without  hope,  or  power  of  connected  thought, 
that  he  hardly  heard  her  words — asked  no  explanations;  and  seeing 
it  was  so,  she  lift  him  to  him  (If. 

He  threw  himself  into  an  arm  ch-tir  by  the  fire,  and  refusing  to 
have  the  gas  lighted,  gazed  into  the  glowing  embers  wit'.i  his  brain 
on  fire.  Thus  sitting  in  darkness  by  his  solitary  hearthstone,  ha 
looked  the  past  and  the  present  in  the  ftce.  Th  •  clock  chimed 
el  ven,  sending  its  metallic  ring  out  upon  the  wintry  air  with  a  clear 
resonance  that  roused  him  from  his  reverie.  "With  an  involuntary 
slnver  he  rose  and  looked  around  him.  There  wa>  scarcely  enough 
light  in  the  room  to  illuminate  its  objects,  but  the  out'.ine  of  a  human 
form,  heavily  draped  in  black,  was  leaning  against  the  ha'f-open 
door  which  it  hadju-t  entered  noiselessly  and  secretly  as  the  shadow 
it  seemed.  With  a  chill  as  though  he  had  seen  an  apparition,  Lisle 
hastily  turned  up  the  gas  jet  and  looked  \gain.  Pale  and  cold  as 
the  apparition  she  ha  I  seeme  I,  Leonore  stood  still  and  waited  for 
him  io  speak.  She  ha  1  returned  home  at  this  late  hour,  and  letting 
herself  in  with  her  private  keys,  was  ignorant  that  he  had  returned 
before  her,  brief  a?  had  been  her  ab-ence,  and  coming  suddenly  upon 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  371 

him  Ihus  sitting  like  a  reproachful  shadow  at  his  deserted  hearth, 
s  e  stood  in  mute  alarm,  not  knowing  if  it  wire  indeed  his  living 
self  that  met  her  eyes.  Lisle's  face  was  more  cold  and  unpifying 
than  she  had  ever  seen  it,  and  with  a  little  cry  she  raised  her  hands 
imploringly.  Ho  only  took  them  both  in  one  of  his,  anrl  leading 
her  forward  to  the  lire,  for  she  was  shivering  with  cold  and  (atiguc, 
slid  calmly, 

"  I  am  not  going  to  reproach  you.  I  have  perhaps  no  right  to  do 
so,  certainly  no  wish.  There  is  too  much  between  us  now  for  mere 
protests  to  avail  anything.  First  of  all,  I  have  two  questions  to  ask 
you.  Did  you  write  this,  and  this?"  and  he  held  before  her  the 
letter  she  had  written  him,  and  the  ill-starrtd  envelope  of  yeara 
before. 

"  Yes,"  she  gasped  rather  t^ian  said. 

"  So  you  confess  it  ?'' 

She  summoned  dignity  under  the  tone,  and  replied  firmiy, 

"  I  admit  it,  Lisle.     '  Confess '  is  not  the  word." 

"  A  distinction  without  a  difference,  under  existing  circumstances." 

"  Lisle,  if  I  had  not  resolved  to  tell  you  all,  at  my  cost,  I  never 
should  have  been  thus  seemingly  entrapped.  What  could  it  matter 
whether  you  suspected  something  of  what  I  had  resolved  so  soon  to 
tell  you  ?  I  can  endure  my  tortured  existence  no  longer.  Better  go 
forth  into  the  wilderness,  like  Hagar  of  old."  She  struggled  suf- 
focatingly to  undo  her  wrappings,  and  with  the  gallantry  natural  to 
him,  though  without  one  impulse  of  affection,  he  removed  them 
for  her  and  cast  them  aside.  He  noticed  then  that  every  article  of 
her  attire  was  of  the  deepest  black,  and  he  marked  the  shuddering 
gasp  with  which  she  hciself  looked  down  upon  the  robe  that  hung 
pall-like  around  her. 

"  Do  you  know  what  has  become  of  the  orphan  girl  commited  to 
our  care,  the  little  sister  for  whom  you  and  I  are  responsible,  strive 
as  we  may  to  ignore  it  ?"  he  demanded.  She  lo  >ked  up  bewildered, 
iind  he  resumed, 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Leonore  Sterling.  Faithful,  conscientious 
guardians  that  we  are  !  She  is,  ere  this,  the  wife  of  Louis  Hartley  I" 

Leonore  uttered  an  ejaculation  of  surprise  and  horror,  and  leaned 
back  trembling  among  the  cushions.  Unmoved  by  her  anguish, 
Lisle  continued, 

"  She  has  become  the  wife  of  a  scoundrel  whom  I  would  have 
whipped,  a  thief  whom  I  would  have  spurned  from  my  threshold  had 
he  dared  to  cross  it.  A  living  curse  on  the  f  ice  of  the  earth,  I  hate 
liiin  aucl  all  who  ever  called  him  theirs  |" 


oTJ  THE   HOUSE   BEHIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

'  Stop,  Lisle,  for  God's  sike  stop.  You  are  cursing  me!  Go  I 
pity  me,  /  M>OS  once  his  icir'f  /'' 

Lisle  stood  as  transfixed  by  those  incredible  words.  H^  had  r.o 
rower  even  to  utter  au  exclamation,  and  he  turned  fairly  gi-ldy 
where  he  stood  staring  down  upon  her.  Shrinking  and  shudder- 
ing she  had  buried  hi  rself  among  the  sofi-pillows  till  only  the  out- 
line of  her  figure  was  visible.  For  a  space,  not  so  much  as  a  breath 
broke  the  dead  hush  in  the  room.  Lisle  was  the  first  to  move,  and 
iu  a  voice  hoarse  with  emotion  he  spoke  her  name.  "  Leonore !" 
She  did  not  look  up,  or  seem  to  hear  him,  and  again  he  called  her. 
"  Leonore,  look  up  at  me,  and  let  me  see  your  face.  Is  it  indeed 
your  very  self  ?''  Bending  over  her,  he  lifted  her  head  with  gentle 
hands  and  turned  her  fair  face  toward  him.  Then  indeed  he  realized 
tliat  she  had  fainted.  Her  face,  which  had  grown  s  idly  thin  and 
sharpened  of  late,  was  as  hueless  and"~fixed  as  marble.  A  divin-3 
pity  swelle  1  his  heart  as  he  looked  down  upon  her,  so  forlorn  and 
helpless  iu  her  wondrous  loveliness,  and  lifting  her  tenderly  hi  his 
arms,  he  bore  her  to  the  window  and  threw  open  the  shutter.  The 
cold  air  revived  her ;  and  opening  her  eyes  she  gazed  round  her, 
bewildered.  Recollection  came  back  to  her  with  a  sudden  pang, 
and  burying  her  face  in  his  breast  she  shivered  from  head  to  foot. 
Caressingly  he  laid  her  back  among  the  cushions,  and  knelt  beside 
her.  The  pitying  eye  of  Heaven  only  marked  the  storm  raging  in 
his  soul.  Not  one  woi  d,  not  a  gesture  revealed  it.  Was  he  indeed 
wifeless  ?  Yes,  by  the  creed  in  which  he  believed.  He  who  had 
ever  denied  the  legality  of  divorce,  could  not  profit  by  it  now.  This 
was  that  obstacle  in  the  way  of  their  union  which  she  had  not 
po-sessed  the  strength  to  confess  to  him,  often  as  she  had  essayed 
it.  He  saw  it  all,  now,  and  minor  troubles  were  forgotten  in  the 
one  annihilating  feeling  that  she  was  his  no  more,  that  he  must  g  ve 
her  up  forever  !  Every  selfish  passion  faded  and  died  out  before 
this  one  bitter,  overwhelming  grie£  Half  frantic  with  grief  and 
<it  spair,  he  groaned  aloud. 

The  sound  roused  her  to  speech  and  action,  and  with  a  caressing 
gesture  which  she  in  the  same  instant  repressed  as  though  feeling 
herself  unworthy  to  offer  it.  she  said, 

••  L'.-t  me  tell  you  all  now,  Lisle;  all  this  which  I  have  hidden  in 
my  heart  ti'.l  it  was  like  to  burs'." 

He  would  have  protested,  fur  he  saw  that  she  needed  rest  and 
quiet ;  but  she  hushed  him  by  a  gesture. 

"8' ay  near  me  thus,  Lisle,  but  in  pity  turn  your  eyes  aside.     I  c  u 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIXD   TUB   POPLARS.  373 

never  tell  you  what  I  have  to  tell,  if  you  turn  that  wistful  glance 
upon  me.'1 

She  hesitated  a  moment  as  if  doubting  how  to  commence,  and 
then  said, 

"  I  never  have  told  you  much  of  my  life,  because  while  there  was 
nothing  in  it  which  I  could  recall  with  pleasure,  there  was  much 
that  was  too  painful  and  utterly  humiliating  for  me  to  confess.  My 
lather  died  before  I  was  born,  and  my  mother,  a  gay,  handsonv, 
worldly  woman,  yet  in  the  prime  of  her  youth  and  beauty,  looked 
upon  me  as  an  obstacle  to  all  her  pleasure  and  enjoyment  in  the  life 
she  led,  and  a  serious  impediment  in  the  way  of  a  second  marriage. 
Her  ruling  ambition  was  to  be  wealthy  and  a  leader  of  fashion,  and 
she  was  far  from  being  cither  when  I  unfortunately  was  born.  As 
a  handsome  young  widow  she  might  aspire  to  most  anything;  but 
as  a  mother  who  upon  a  limited  income  was  to  support  herself  and 
a  little  daughter,  the  case  VMS  very  different,  and  she  made  me  feel 
and  understand  it  most  precociously.  We  lived  very  quietly,  and 
she  was  the  only  companion  of  my  most  favored  hours,  if  that  can 
be  termed  companionship  which  was  all  power  and  selfishness  on 
one  side,  and  shrinking  dread  and  obedience  on  the  other.  When 
I  attained  the  age  of  fourteen,  she  sent  me  away  to  a  Seminary  for 
young  ladies,  partly  that  I  might  be  fashionably  educated,  but 
principally  because  being  a  well-grown  girl  for  my  years,  I  was  a 
serious  inconvenience  to  a  yet  husband-seeking  widow,  whose  age 
could  illy  bear  the  suggestions  my  appearance  caused.  I  hailed  my 
deliverance  from  home  with  a  joy  I  cannot  express  to  you.  I  wa* 
remarkable  only  for  my  aptness  in  music,  which  I  had  always  pur- 
sued at  the  expense  of  everything  else,  and  this  gave  me  the  entree 
into  certain  social  circles  from  which  my  youth  and  inexperience 
would  otherwise  have  debarred  me. 

"  Beyond  the  customary  supervision  of  our  teachers,  no  one  held 
any  rein  over  us,  and  it  wns  quite  impossible  for  them  to  know  the 
sentimental  nonsense  so  ceaselessly  indulged  in  by  young  beaux  and 
belles.  So  it  was,  that,  meeting  Louis  Hartley,  who  was  pursuing 
his  collegiate  course,  I  received  his  gallantries  and  fine  speeches 
without  attracting  any  especial  observation.  He  was  then  in  the 
senior  year  of  his  course,  handsome,  genteel,  and  quite  an  authority 
among  us  nil.  Meeting  him  often  and  being  always  the  object  of 
his  undivided  attention,  with  the  usual  precocity  of  girls  in  all  love 
matters,  I  soon  came  to  f  mcy  myself  violently  in  love  with  him,  as 
lie  professed  to  be  with  me.  Of  course  we  made  a  marriage  eu- 
At  first  it  was  for  an  indefinite  length  of  time,  he  not 


374  THE   HOUSE  BEHIXD  THE  POPLAK3. 

yet  having  so  much  as  chosen  any  profusion  in  life,  and  I  being  n 
mere  school-girl.  But  one  romantic  episode  followed  another,  till 
ht  last  the  sugg'  stion  of  a  secret  marriage  was  made,  and  my  heart 
fluttered  at  the  prospect  of  becoming  one  of  those  heroines  of  which 
I  had  read  so  much  in  the  novels  my  mother  loved  aad  wept  over. 
Having  thus  decided,  the  opportunity  soon  came,  and  one  evening 
\ve  slipped  out  from  a  social  gathering  and  rode  out  of  town  un- 
checked, to  the  house  of  an  ever  ready  'Justice,'  who  for  a  hand- 
some fee  risked  being  compelled  to  suffer  the  legal  penalty,  and  we 
were  married.  Thus  at  the  age  of  fifteen  I  was  made  the  wife  of  a 
youth  of  nineteen ! 

"Looking  back  upon  it  now,  I  can  hardly  realize  the  total  eclipse 
of  reason  that  must  have  come  over  me  !  That  I  was  alarmed  wh;  n 
I  coolly  reflected  upon  what  I  had  done,  is  true,  and  my  first  repen- 
tant tear?  proved  to  be  anything  but  the  sweet  showers  of  sentiment 
I  had  pic  ured  them  in  my  fancy.  Louis,  too,  became  alarmed  at 
the  possible  consequences  of  the  step  he  had  taken,  should  Mr. 
Fifzjames,  whom  he  regarded  as  his  guardian  and  mentor,  leam  it. 
All  the  happiness  I  hud  enjoyed  in  my  modest  belleship,  was  des- 
troyed by  the  sight  of  his  gloomy  brow  when  we  met  in  the  little 
circles  that  had  before  been  so  delightful,  and  shunning  them  more 
and  more,  I  gave  way  to  apprehension  and  discontent,  till  even  the 
stolen  hours  we  passed  together  were  embittered  by  it,  and  mutual 
recriminations  made  a  real  breach  between  us.  This  was  bad 

enough,  but  worse  was  to  follow.     I  disc  ^vered — I  found  that 

Oh,  ?pare  me,  Lisle,  and  guess  what  a  terrible  alarm  I  felt. 

"It  was  impossible  for  me  to  remain  longer  in  the  Seminary — 
where  could  I  turn  1  Loui-s  was  about  to  gradu-ite — he  dared  not 
go  away  with  me  before  ;  and  I  wrote  to  my  mother  as  the  one  ref- 
uge left  me.  Casting  aside  the  fear  and  restraint  I  had  always  felt 
toward  her,  I  wrote  her  all,  concealing  neither  my  error  nor  my  re- 
pentance, and  assured  that  she  must  respond  to  my  appeal,  I  packed 
my  trunk  in  readiness  to  go  to  her  at  once.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  the 
disappointment  I  felt  when  she  coklly  wrote  me  that  as  I  had  chosen 
my  destiny  I  must  abide  by  it ;  that  my  husband,  not  she,  was  the 
one  to  whom  I  should  look  for  protection.  She  bade  me  appeal  t:> 
h'.-r  no  more — and  from  that  day  to  this  I  have  never  addressed  one 
word  to  her,  nor  she  to  me. 

'•  I  i-howed  Louis  her  unfeeling  letter,  and  his  only  remark  was  an 
oath — not  that  she  had  outraged  me,  but  that  he  knew  not  what  to 
do  with  me,  helpless  as  I  wa?.  His  total  lack  of  anything  like  man- 
liness toward  me,  angered  inc.  and  in  a  rage  I  demanded  that  he 


THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  375 

should  avow  our  marriage  and  place  me  in  some  quiet  lodgings, 
where,  my  rights  as  a  wife  allowed,  I  would  ask  for  nothing  more. 
The  result  of  a  long  and  warm  discussion  was  a  compromise,  I  was 
received  in  the  house  of  a  poor  widow  who  would  keep  the  secret 
of  my  residence,  in  exchange  for  a  price  agreed  upon;  but  he  stead- 
fastly refused  to  confess  the  marriage  till  lie  should  be  established 
in  some  bui.smss,  and  away  from  the  college  companions  whose  ri«!i- 
cule  he  dr  aded.  A  few  weeks  afterward  Louis  u-cjivedhis  diploma 
and  went  home  for  a  visit. 

"  I  waited  hopefully  for  the  letter  that  was  to  announce  to  me  his 
plans  f  r  the  future.  It  came  at  last,  telling  me  that  he  had  ac- 
cepts! the  position  offered  him  as  your  private  tutor;  that  as  he  was 
to  reside  in  Mr.  Fitzjaines'  house,  with  you,  it  was  utterly  impossi- 
ble to  have  me  with  him. 

"  All  my  protests  were  in  vain.  The  widow  with  whom  I  lived 
had  evidently  begun  to  suspect  that  I  was  deserted,  while  my  un- 
fortunate situation  was  more  and  more  apparent,  and  at  List  cam3 
the  warning  to  seek  other  lodgings.  In  despair  I  wrote  Luuis 
everything,  and  he  appeased  the  widow's  virtuous  indignation  by 
sending  her  his  first  quarter's  salary,  and  a  letter  acknowledging  me 
as  his  wife.  Whether  or  not  she  believed  the  assertion,  she  was 
more  respectful  to  me,  and  I  remained  under  the  roof  where  I  had 
been  insulted,  simply  because  I  knew  not  where  in  the  wide  world 
to  seek  another !  Here  in  due  time  my  little  boy  was  bom,  and 
nursed  by  such  unloving  hands,  I  came  back  to  the  life  I  had  nearly 
lost  forever." 

Sobs  choked  her  utterance  here,  and  for  a  moment  nothing  elsi 
was  heard,  while  Lisle  sat  in  silent  agony,  his  lace  buried  in  hii 
hand?,  which  trembled  with  the  emotion  that  shook  him  as  an  ague. 
She  felt  instinctively  all  that  he  suffered,  aud  she  appealingly  ex- 
claimed, 

"  Oh,  Li<le,  do  not  shrink  from  me  in  pitying  contempt !  I  wa.? 
so  young  and  friendless — barely  yet  s'xtecu — misguided,  ibolLli,  but 
nothing  worse ! 

"  Even  then,  Louis  refused  to  come  to  me,  basing  his  refus  d  upon 
grounds  all  to  trivial  to  conceal  the  fact  that  he  did  not  care  to  see 
me  c  r  his  child.  My  first  storm  of  passion  passed,  I  turned  to  ih : 
Lttle  one  as  the  only  comfort  vouchsafed  me,  and  I  loved  it  with  an 
intense  devotion.  My  half-deserte  I  position  was  more  enduruMj 
now,  and  for  awhile  I  ceasod  to  protest  against  it.  So  month' 
passed  by,  during  which  I  did  not  once  see  Louis,  hardly  received  a 
word  from  him.  Then  my  conquered  pride  again  blazed  up,  and  I 


373  THE  HOUSE   BEHIND   THK   POPLAU3. 

wrote  him  an  impetuous  letter  in  which  I  thr^  atened  to  repeal  all  to 
his  benefactor,  Mr.  Fitzj.imcs.  to  take  my  little  boy  in  my  arms  and 
foicehim  to  acknowledge  its  paternity.  I  asked  nothing  of  him 
now,  I  only  threatened,  but  those  threats  effected  what  tears  and 
prayers  had  failed  to  attain.  He  wrote  me  for  heaven's  sake  not  to 
ex<  cute  my  threat,  promising  me  that  he  should  soon  be  able  to  di> 
cl  ire  all  and  take  me  home  with  him  as  his  wif-,  and  announced 
that  he  should  visit  me  at  the  end  of  the  first  year  of  his  tutorship, 
now  near. 

"  He  came  as  he  had  promised,  and  fully  aware  that  I  could  in- 
fluence him  only  through  his  fears,  I  practised  upon  them  to  such 
good  purpose  that  1  went  with  him  from  the  cheerless  prison  I  had 
so  lung  occupied,  and  he  established  me  as  a  boarcicr,  and  his  wife, 
with  a  respectable  woman  in  a  little  town  near  Louisville,  where  he 
could  often  visit  me  without  attracting  any  attention  from  his  nearest 
fiiends.  This  woman,  who  was  kind  and  motherly,  was  the  mother 
of  Joseph  Perkins,  then  a  half-grown  lad  whom  I  paid  a  weekly 
stipend  to  relieve  me  in  my  care  of  my  child,  and  I  devoted  the  lei- 
sure thus  secured,  to  the  most  diligent  study  and  practice  of  my 
music,  too  long  neglected. 

Thus  passed  two  years  more,  not  unhappily,  and  during  the  third 
a  new  hope  arose  in  my  heart.  Mr.  Fitzjames  had  decided  to  pro- 
vide for  both  his  proteges  at  once,  by  uniting  them  in  a  business 
house  with  himself;  and  I  looked  forward  to  assuming  my  proper 
place  in  the  social  world.  Judge,  then,  of  my  disappointment  when, 
t.,e  business  arrangement  completed,  Louis  refused  to  fulfill  his 
promise,  and  defied  me  to  prove  our  marriage.  His  former  fear  of 
Mr.  Fitzjames  had  vanished,  since  his  business  prospects  were  as- 
sured, and  upbraiding  me  for  the  very  claims  I  had  upon  him.  he 
accused  me  as  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  success,  and  plainly  told 
me  that  but  for  me  he  might  make  a  marriage  every  way  advan'a- 
geous  to  himself.  He  offered  me — me,  the  mother  ot  his  child,  a  sum 
of  miserable  lucre  to  forever  renounce  my  claim  upon  him  ;  coolly 
propose  1  that  I  should  seek  a  new  home  far  away  from  him,  and 
with  the  money  he  would  give  me,  commence  life  anew,  as  a  young 
widow,  and  leave  him  free  and  untrammelled. 

"  Sn. .tching  my  little  son  to  my  indignant  heart,  I  vowed  that  not 
one  cent  from  him  should  ever  contaminate  either  of  us,  but  that  bv 
my  own  labor  I  would  rear  my  boy  to  avenge  his  mother's  wrongs. 
I  scorned  to  hold  by  a  legal  tie  one  who  was  not  willingly  mine,  but 
I  dared  him  to  attempt  to  set  it  aside.  Bound  to  me  by  every 
egal  tio  he  should  remain  ;  having  thus  deserted  me  ho  sh  >uld  not 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  377 

profit  by  it ;  and  having  told  him  this,  I  opened  the  door  and  actu- 
ally hurled  him  out  it. 

"  The  next  day  I  left  the  place  with,  my  child — that  child  so  like 
his  father  in  every  feature  that  I  often  involuntarily  thrust  him  from 
me,  worshipping  him  as  I  did,  conquered  by  an  impulse,  as  la  t  sum- 
mer at  the  seaside  I  was  often  conquered  by  the  father  whose  every 
look  reminded  me  of  the  child  for  whom  I  yearned  most  passionate- 
ly, forced  as  I  was  to  keep  him  far  from  me  !  In  the  new  home  I 
sought,  my  musical  proficiency  soon  enabled  me  to  gain  a  handsome 
support.  I  lived  quietly  and  secluded,  carefully  avoiding  all  cause 
for  remark,  and  feeling  no  care  for  the  future.  But  for  my  child  I 
might  have  lived  and  died  thus.  But  impertinent  curiosity  left  him 
no  enjoyment  among  his  playfellows.  I  had  uncompromisingly 
called  him  by  his  father's  name,  but  of  that  father  he  knew  nothing, 
and  his  dim  recollection  was  but  just  enough  to  make  his  queries 
unanswerable.  I  had  told  him  that  he  whom  he  thus  remembered, 
was  dead ;  for  his  cureless  prattle  of  him  was  unendurable  ;  but  older 
tongues  took  up  the  burden  tossed  and  parried  by  the  younger,  till 
it  became  evident  that  unkind  suspicion  was  fully  aroused,  and  I 
could  submit  to  it  no  longer  in  sileuce.  The  poor  child  himself 
seemed  sinking  under  the  ceaseless  taunts  cast  upon  him,  and  deli- 
cate as  he  was,  1  f  ared  even  for  his  life. 

"  In  the  midst  of  my  trouble,  Louis  Hartley  suddenly  appeared  be- 
fore me.  I  know  not  what  late  coining  compassion  had  at  last  stirred 
his  heart — perhaps  it  was  only  a  recognition  of  the  power  I  held 
over  him — but  he  offered  once  more  to  take  me  and  the  child  under 
his  protection,  and  with  us  forever  leave  the  country.  Even  now  I 
do  not  know  Avhat  it  was  tiiat  aroused  my  suspicions  again  t  him, 
but  a  sudden  inspiration  seized  me  that  he  was  a  fugitive,  and  I  de- 
mandcd  of  him  of  what  he  was  guilty.  He  told  me  with  a  shame- 
less desperation.  He  was  disgusted  with  the  business  in  which  he 
was  a  co-partner,  jealous  of  Mr.  Fitzjamis'  manifest  and  open  pn.-fe-- 
ence  for  yo",  tired  of  everything  in  the  life  he  was  leading,  and  so 
had  ended  it  at  once  for  all.  '  An  adventurer  going  out  to  teek  his 
fortune,'  hi;  declared  himself.  Such  was  the  destiny  to  which  he  in- 
vited me  and  my  innocem  boy,  such  the  ill-gotten  gains  upon  which 
he  proposed  to  prosecute  it.  A  thief,  as  well  as  a  shameless  ingrute ! 
I  despised  him,  and  I  told  him  so  as  I  drove  him  from  my  sight. 

"  Never  till  th  n  had  I  cared  for  the  legal  freedom  to  which  I  wns 
entitled.  But  I  despised  him  so  thoroughly  that  the  very  thought 
of  any  tie  between  us,  however  ignored,  \vas  galling  to  me,  and  I 
took  steps  at  once  to  free  myself  forever  from  it.  Little  timo  was 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  TUB   POPLARS. 

required  fo.  this,  and  all  legal  formalities  being  observed.  I  we.-  onca 
m^re  free  and  unshackled,  aud  I  resumed  ray  maiden  name,  as  en- 
titled to  do.  Now  judeed  curiosity  had  found  something  tangible 
upon  which,  to  feast,  and  in  the  midst  of  its  clamors  I  suddenly  dis- 
appeared to  return  no  more.  Now  it  was  that  I  wrote  th  xt  letter  to 
Mr.  Fitzjames  which  l;as  kept  your  interest  rroused  till  this  d 
wrote  him  the  whole  story  of  Louis'  on  worthiness ;  told  him  my 
wrongs  and  how  I  had  at  last  avenged  them,  and  vowed  to  him  that 
in  time  Louis'  son  should  repay  him  all  that  he  had  lost  by  Louis 
crime.  I  never  thought  that  the  blow  I  thus  inflicted  could  strike 
his  he.irt.  Assured  that  he  must  bitterly  resent  Lotus'  ingratitude, 
I  only  thought  to  add  utter  detestation  to  indignation,  and  not  even 
anticipating  any  reply,  I  left  the  p'ace  where  I  had  written  the  let- 
ter, and  went  back  at  once  to  good  Mr.-.  Perkins.  Here,  during  my 
brief  stay,  I  by  chance  took  up  a  Louisville  journal  containing  an 
account  of  the  dear  old  gentleman's  sudden  shock  and  death ;  and  I 
stood  appalled  as  I  realized  that  my  letter  might  have  caused  thnt 
stroke.  I  suffered  the  mental  agony  of  an  actual  murderer,  at  the 
very  thought,  and  you  may  imagine  what  I  felt  when  long  afterward 
your  lips  confirmed  the  fear  !  Do  you  remember  handing  me  tho 
envelope  to  that  letter,  one  morning  at  the  table 't  I  could  have 
dropped  when  I  recognized  it ! 

"  I  stayed  long  enough  with  good  old  II  s.  Perkins,  now  become 
a  widow,  to  mature  a  plan  I  had  conceived,  and  leaving  my  little 
boy  in  her  care,  I  came  to  this  city  alone,  and  fortunately  made  a 
most  advantageous  engagement  in  the  Wheeler  family,  which  en- 
abled me  to  put  my  plans  into  execution.  Poor  Mrs.  Perkins', 
bereaved  of  her  husband,  had  also  lost  her  son,  Joseph,  who  left  her 
in  anger  for  some  well  deserved  reproof,  and  had  for  some  time  been 
in  the  city  of  Louisvilie ;  and  quite  dependent  upon  her  own  labor 
for  support,  the  modest  income  I  was  able  to  offer  her  to  keep  my 
child  and  care  for  it  in  my  absence,  seemed  to  her  a  handsome  com- 
petence. I  had  saved  enough  during  these  years  of  labor  and  close 
economy  to  rent  a  quiet  little  house  in  a  place  a  little  way  on*- 
this  city,  and  here  I  established  her  with  a  faithful  man  servant 
whom  she  knew  to  be  as  zealous  and  secret  as  herself.  It  was  my 
absenee  upon  this  mission  that  brought  upon  me  my  disgrace 
the  "Wheelers,  and  almost  exhausted  ns  my  little  stock  of  money  was 
by  these  heavy  demands  upon  it,  I  was  in  real  despair  when  Mis. 
Yenard  chanced  upon  the  scene,  and  so  nobly  befriended  me. 

"  Of  course  frequent  visits  to  the  poor  child  were  quite  impossible. 
Even  were  it  possible  to  fly  to  him  for  a  few  hours,  and  back,  x 


THE  HOUSE  I:EIIIND  THE  POMARS.  379 

dared  not  risk  such  chances  of  detection,  and  I  contented  myself 
with  the  frequent  reports  brought  me  by  the  faithful  servant, 
Thomas,  and  with  the  letters  I  sent  back  to  the  little  fellow  who, 
•with  a  precocity  far  beyond  his  years,  understood  the  whole  position 
of  affairs,  feeble  as  were  the  words  by  which  I  strove  to  explain  it  to 
him. 

"  At  last  the  little  fellow  fell  violently  ill,  and  ion  anxious  to 
observe  lus  customary  prudence,  Thomas  was  seen  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Venard  to  give  me  the  letter  Mrs.  Perkins  had  written  begging  my 
immediate  presence.  I  went  in  response,  as  you  remember,  and  for 
the  days  succeeding  I  never  left  his  bedside.  Fortunately  the  vio- 
lence of  this  attack  abated  so  that  I  dared  leave  him  and  return  m 
time  to  spare  Mrs.  Venard  the  embarrassment  she  must  otherwise 
have  suffered  from  so  apparently  eccentric  absence.  Unfortunately 
I  missed  the  train  I  intended  to  have  taken,  and  when  at  last  I  did 
arrive,  so  late  at  night,  I  felt  positively  guilty,  and  afraid  to  look 
her  in  the  face.  She  received  me  as  only  she  herself  could  have  done ; 
and  I  went  down  to  the  parlor,  later,  reassured  and  at  ease. 

"  You  met  me  there,  I  never  shall  forget  how  ;  and  I  realized  then, 
•what  I  had  not  before  suspected,  that  you  loved  me.  I  had  known, 
before,  that  I  loved  you ;  but  the  very  hopelessness  of  such  a  love 
had  kept  me  within  the  bounds  of  reason  and  common  sense. 

"You  were  not  the  stranger  to  me  that  I  was  to  you.  For  years 
I  had  known  your  very  eccentricities,  and  harshly  as  I  heard  them 
criticised,  I  was  irresistibly  attracted  by  them  and  by  you.  An 
overwhelming  presentiment  of  all  the  evil  to  come,  swept  over  me 
as  I  felt  how  powerless  I  was  to  struggle  against  your  love  and  its 
pleadings,  and  I  seriously  contemplated  flying  from  you  forever. 
For  even,  this  I  had  not  the  moral  courage,  and  I  remained  to  be 
tempted  by  a  power  which  I  knew  would  conquer  me.  I  had  not 
forgotten  your  peculiar  creed  relative  to  marriages  annulled  by 
legal  power.  You  know  how  I  strove  to  do  what  I  knew  to  be 
right  and  just  under  such  circumstances. 

u  In  a  weak  hour  I  yielded  to  your  suit.  I  told  you  that  '  a  mere 
conscientious  scruple  '  separated  us,  and  when  you  waved  it  aside  I 
determined  it  should  be  forever.  In  becoming  my  husband  you 
•were  making  no  sacrifice  of  conscience,  violating  no  principle  even 
of  your  own  illiberal  creed,  while  in  resigning  you  1  was  giving  up 
more  than  life  itself.  With  such  thoughts  I  married  you,  and  God 
knows  I  meant  to  make  you  happy. 

"As  if  to  convince  me  that  no  real  and  lasting  happiness  can  pro- 
ceed from  a  wrong  act  however  glossed  over  by  argument  or  sophi;- 


380  THB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

try,  one  cloud  after  another  darkened  the  horizon  where  I  had  ex- 
pected only  sunshine.  On  the  very  threshold  of  our  new  home,  I 
met  Joseph  Perkins,  and  the  impudent  leer  he  cast  upon  me  told  me 
plainly  that  he  recognized  me,  and  believed  me  not  your  lawful 
wife.  Of  course  I  could  not  stoop  to  explain,  and  the  ceaseless 
dread  I  suffered  lest  he  might  reveal  all  he  knew  of  the  past,  made 
me  a  slave  to  him  and  his  demands,  however  unreasonable.  You 
know  now  upon  what  was  based  the  protection  upon  which  you  so 
often  rallied  me. 

"  When  I  had  resigned  my  child  to  the  care  of  another,  I  had 
vowed  to  myself  and  him  that  once  every  year  I  would  go  to  him  for 
a  visit  of  at  least  twenty-four  hours.  It  was  little  enough,  not  more 
than  the  holiday  to  which  even  the  worst  tasked  governess  is  en- 
titled. This  right  I  had  mentally  reserved  while  claiming  none 
other  beside  the  '  salary  '  which  was  to  be  my  own,  unquestioned, 
needing  it  as  I  did  for  the  maintenance  of  uiy  child,  and  which  you 
awarded  me  in  that  contract  whose  playfulness  did  not  impair  its 
good  faith. 

"  As  the  period  for  that  visit  drew  near  for  the  first  time  after  our 
marriage,  I  was^half  distracted.  I  could  not  disappoint  the  poor 
child,  of  whose  dtlicate  health  I  heard  infrequent  reports.  I  could 
not  well  tell  you  that  I  was  going  away  upon  a  mission  not  even 
your  protests  could  have  forbidden — I  dared  not  leave  you  one 
written  adieu  with  any  excuse,  for  the  reason  you  know.  I  went 
silently,  and  heaven  knows  sadly.  I  ceased  to  reproach  myself  for 
going,  when  I  looked  upon  the  poor  child's  delicate  face,  hardly 
life-like  even  under  the  glow  of  joy  with  which  he  sprang  into  my 
embrace.  Though  ailing  he  was  not  really  ill,  and  though  anxious 
about  him,  I  was  no  longer  alarmed. 

"  I  came  back  to  you  from  that  first  visit  since  our  marriage,  and- 
our  first  misunderstanding  arose  from  it.  My  first  thought  was  one 
of  resentment,  but  I  accepted  your  anger  as  a  justice  bestowed  un- 
awares. Selim's  abduction  I  traced  at  once  to  Joseph.  He  had 
known  of  Louis'  presence  in  the  grounds  that  evening  before  I  went 
away,  and  I  saw  that  he  had  timed  the  doubtlessly  long  contem- 
plated theft  accordingly.  He  knew  I  could  not  brave  a  prosecution 
in  the  case,  which  would  inevitably  lead  to  a  knowledge  of  that 
other  hated  presence  ;  and  that  he  defied  me  to  do  so,  was  the  se- 
cret of  my  firm  resolve  that  he  should  not  be  received  back  in  our 
tervice  after  you  had,  to  my  joy,  discharged  him.  I  confe.-s  to  you, 
now,  that  I  bribed  him  to  restore  the  horse,  since  I  dared  not  do 
otherwise. 


THB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPIARS.  381 

"  Our  happiest  hours  followed  his  departure,  and  I  shall  ever  re- 
gret that  we  disturbed  them  by  that  sojourn  at  the  watering-place 
during  the  summer.  Here  Louis  Hartley  reappeared.  I  believed 
nil  was  over  between  him  and  Julie,  and  I  attached  little  importance 
to  his  presence  in  such  a  resort,  till  gossip  led  me  to  think  that  he 
was  deliberately  avenging  himself  upon  both  you  and  me,  by  making 
iny  name  a  subject  of  scandal  as  connected  with  himself. 

"  We  returned  home  in  October,  and  the  first  news  that  greeted 
me  from  the  cottage  so  long  unvisited,  was  the  serious  illness  of  my 
child.  I  dared  not  go  to  him,  the  very  promise  I  had  given  you 
under  an  impulse  too  strong  to  be  resisted,  forbade  me  to  do  so. 
But  I  ordered  a  report  to  be  brought  me  daily,  and  I  met  Thomas 
at  the  gate  to  receive  it.  For  some  time  the  little  fellow  wavered 
between  life  and  death,  then  rallied.  I  was  forced  to  go  away  upon 
that  excursion  you  remember.  I  had  no  opportunity  to  warn  Thomas 
not  to  come  during  my  absence,  and  I  was  compelled  to  rely  wholly 
upon  his  prudence  and  natural  shrewdness.  When  I  returned  I 
found  a  letter  written  by  himself  and  given  into  the  housekeeper's 
change,  telling  me  the  boy  had  suffered  a  relapse,  and  begged  for  me 
continually.  I  forced  myself  to  remain  here  as  I  felt  I  ought,  though 
health  and  nerves  gave  way  beneath  the  task.  You  went  away  for 
a  time,  and  the  temptation  I  had  so  long  resisted  came  over  me  with 
irresistible  power.  They  told  me  he  was  dying,  and  I  flew  to  him 
by  the  first  train— too  late — he  was  dead  when  I  reached  him !" 

Her  voice  broke,  and  utterly  failed  her,  and  she  wept  convulsive- 
ly. Moved  by  profoundest  pity,  Lisle  caressed  and  soothed  her  till 
her  self-control  returned,  and  she  resumed  briefly, 

"  I  returned  home  directly  from  the  funeral,  hoping  to  reach  it 
before  you.  I  had  written  you  at  last,  careless,  in  my  suffering, 
what  danger  I  incurred,  resolved  as  I  was  to  tell  you  all  and  so  end 
the  feverish  life  I  endured.  I  thought  when  I  came  so  unexpected- 
ly upon  you,  that  your  very  ghost  had  thus  appeared  to  taunt  me, 
and  I  was  terror  stricken.  You  were  very  angry,  Lisle,  but  I  know 
you  will  deal  justly.  I  have  told  you  all,  at  last.  Condemn  and 
sentence  me  as  you  will,  but  remember  my  temptation.  J  loved  you!" 
Yes,  with  a  love  beyond  all  price  !  He  knew  it,  but  the  fact  re- 
mained, pitiless,  inexorable  ?  She  was  no  wife  of  his  by  any  law  he 
recognized.  But  one  course  remained  to  him  in  honor — renuncia- 
tion !  Bigoted,  fanatical  he  might  be,  but  conscientious  ;  and  he 
bent  over  her  in  a  silence  that  tent  the  bitter  truth  home  to  her 
heart.  White  and  still  she  rose  before  him.  Roused  by  the  action 
lie  sprang  to  his  feet  and  caught  her  to  his  breast  in  one  impetuous, 


3S2  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

passionate  embrace,  uttering  only  her  name  again  and  again.  She 
was  not  deceived  by  the  act,  not  one  false  hope  dawned  in  her 
heart,  but  her  very  woman's  pride  died  out  of  it,  and  she  mur- 
mured, 

"  Do  not,  do  not  send  me  from  you  !  I  am  your  wife,  I  could  en* 
force  the  title  if  I  would.  Well,  I  resign  it ;  I  will  adopt  your  con- 
fcience,  and  never  speak  the  word.  Keep  me  upon  your  own  terms, 
I  hare  none  to  make." 

I  He  would  have  been  more  or  less  than  mortal  had  not  he  hesitated. 
The  Saviour  himself  was  tempted,  but  less  insidiously  than  this! 
Heart  and  brain  reeled  under  it.  But  the  next  instant  he  put  her 
from  him  shuddcringly. 

"  No,  no,  a  thousand  times  no  !  Ah,  Leonore,  I  love  you  too  well 
for  this.  Wife,  my  true  and  lawful  wife — or  nothing  !" 

"  How  can  I  leave  you !''  she  uttered  despairingly. 

"  That  you  shall  not,"  he  answered  resolutely.  "  This  home  ia 
yours  by  the  law  you  recognize  ;  half  I  have  in  this  world  would  be 
accorded  you,  to-morrow,  were  I  never  again  to  look  upon  your  face. 
.Keep  it  and  use  it.  No  one  need  know  the  insuperable  barrier  be- 
t\vei.-n  us  ;  as  my  wife  you  shall  be  recognized  by  all,  and  if  the  day 
ever  come  when  Louis  Hartley's  hated  life  is  stilled,  a  secret  marriage 
known  to  none  save  m  shall  legalize  the  name  you  never  ceased  to 
bear  so  that  my  heart  and  soul  are  satisfied.  Leave  me  ?  Never  1"  , 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE  remaining  hours  of  that  eventful  night  which  had  so  revolu- 
tionized his  life,  Lisle  passed  in  restless,  ceaseless  pacing  across  the 
floor,  insensible  even  to  fatigue,  under  the  mental  torture  he  suffered. 
Under  such  a  renunciation  there  was  faint  consolation  in  the  thought 
that  he  should  not  be  entirely  separated  from  the  wife  he  could  not 
acknowledge  or  believe  legally  his,  that  he  should  meet  her  day  by 
d  ly  in  such  social  converse  as  was  rightfully  theirs  whatever  the 
tie  between  them.  After  all,  was  this  a  principle  for  which  he  was 
sacrificing  so  much?  Was  it  not,  rather,  a  prejudice,  as  she  had 
termed  it  ?  Whatever  might-have  been  his  decision  had  he  known 
all  before  the  actual  marriage  had  taken  place,  had  he  any  spiritual 
right  not  to  be  granted  him  legally,  to  annul  it  now  ? 

Reason  triumphed  over  prejudice,  at  last,  and  he  blushed  as  he 
remembered  the  terms  upon  which  he  had  bidden  her  to  saty,  gen- 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  383 

erous  and  just  as  lie  had  deemed  them  when  proposed.  Proud  and 
uncompromising  as  she  was,  how  had  she  not  rejected  them  at  once ; 
how  not  refused  thus  to  temporize  with  her  lawful  rights?  What 
he  had  offered  her  was  a  living  death,  to  a  proud  woman  who  knew 
herself  his  lawful  wife,  and  who  loved  him  with  more  than  a  wife's 
devotion.  That  love  itself  had  sealed  her  lips  under  his  mockery  of 
justice,  as  it  had  prompted  her  humble  offering  of  herself  and  her 
iifo,  even  though  he  ignored  their  marriage.  Such  love  as  theirs 
would  have  sanctified  moit  any  tie  between  them — yet  she  had 
meekly  yielded  and  conceded  all. 

Day  had  dawned  ere  reason  thus  declared  its  sway,  and  he  glanced 
up  at  the  rosy  eastern  sky  that  seemed  to  smile  approvingly  upon 
this  second  renunciation,  not  of  his  love  and  happiness,  but  of  a 
bigotry  that  had  presumed  to  say  the  law  had  power  to  bind,  but  not 
unloose. 

"With  the  glow  of  happiness  upon  him,  he  stole  to  his  wife's  door 
and  listened.  Not  a  sound  reached  his  ear,  and  glad  that  sleep  had 
overpowered  her  despite  her  misery,  he  went  cautiously  away. 
Recalling  how  wan  and  ill  she  had  looked  when  he  parted  from  her, 
he  left  her  til!  late  in  the  morning,  hesitating  to  arouse  her  even  to 
happiness.  His  impatience  became  uncontrollable  at  last,  and  re- 
solving at  least  to  look  upon  her  as  she  dreamed,  he  softly  opened 
the  door  and  entered.  She  was  not  there,  the  room  was  quite 
deserted,  and  evidences  of  hasty  packing  showed  how  she  had 
passed  the  hours  during  which  he  had  battled  with  himself.  He 
stood  appalled  by  the  shock  of  the  conviction  that  rushed  upon  him. 
She  had  fled  from  him  forever  !  He  threw  open  the  armoirs,  dread- 
ing to  find  that  in  the  usual  style  of  'heroines  of  romance'  she  had 
left  behind  her  all  for  which  he  was,  supposed  to  care,  her  wardrobe 
and  the  jewels  he  had  given  her.  The  bitterness  faded  from  his 
mind  the  instant  it  had  swept  across  it,  for  this  insult  had  been 
spared  him.  With  her  exquisite  sensitiveness  for  his  feelings,  she 
had  thrown  back  upon  him  nothing  that  was  hers  by  any  generosity 
ofliis;  and  he  mentally  thanked  her. 

She  was  gone,  this  bitter  truth  remained  ;  and  pressing  his  cheek 
upon  the  pillow  where  her  own  so  often  had  lain,  he  gave  way  to 
the  utter  desolation  of  soul  that  racked  him.  Where  had  she  fled, 
to  whom  would  she  apply  for  tfik  protection  she  thus  refused  to 
accept  from  him  ?  Suddenly  he  remembered  that  little  cottage  of 
which  she  had  spoken.  Could  he  find  old  Mrs.  Perkins,  he  should 
learn  tidings  of  his  wife  ;  and  he  rang  the  bell  for  Margaret,  who 
was  more  in  her  mistress's  confidence  than  any  other.  Not  she,  but 


SSI  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

James,  appeared  in  answer  to  the  summons,  and  Lisle  eagerly  de- 
manded, 

"  Where  is  Margaret  ?" 

"  Slie  went  away  with  the  madam,  before  daylight.  I  took  them 
and  their  trunks  to  the  depot  for  the  four  o'clock  train." 

So,  she  had  gone  up  the  country ;  this  was  some  clue,  but  where  ? 
This  he  might  learn  of  the  ticket  agent,  and  he  hurried  out.  No. 
The  agent  had  seen  the  lady  and  her  maid  waiting  for  the  train, 
but  no  tickets  had  been  purchased,  nor  had  Leonore  ever  procured 
tickets  when  making  her  former  visits  as  confessed.  Strange  fatality 
that  hid  kept  unnamed  this  little  village  of  her  pilgrimages,  when 
she  had  so  fully  revealed  all  else  !  Disappointed  but  not  discour- 
aged, he  returned  home. 

'•  Mrs.  Perkins  met  him  at  the  threshold,  unusually  disturbed* 
"  Please,  sir,  would  you  mind  giving  my  Joseph  a  hearing,  being  as 
he's  come  this  early  to  ask  it?  Though  he  won't  tell  me,  which  am 
his  luvful  partner,  anything  about  it,  I'm  sure  it's  about  the  dear 
lady  he's  something  to  tell." 

"  Send  him  to  me  at  once,"  he  exclaimed  as  the  idea  flashed  upon 
him  that  more  was  probably  to  be  learned  of  Joseph  than  from  all 
others  combined;  and  soon  that  worthy  individual  appeared. 

"Well,  what  have  you  to  tell  ?"  Lisle  abruptly  demanded. 

"  A  good  deal  first  and  last,  as  is  worth  a  heap  of  money,  sir." 

"  I  make  no  bargain  with  you,  Joseph.  Tell  me  first,  and  if  you 
are  really  useful  to  me,  you  shall  be  well  paid." 

"  I  can  put  you  on  the  madam's  track,  if  you  think  she's  worth 
the  following.  You  see,  a  long  back  I  han't  had  right  smart  of  busi- 
ness, and  I  know'd  there  was  more  to  be  made  a-keeping  watch  on 
her,  than  in  any  other  kind  of  speculation.  She  was  always  full  of 
secrets,  was  the  madam,  and  some  of 'em  I  know'd." 

"  Well,  go  on,  and  tell  all  you  know  as  briefly  as  possible." 

"Well,  I  know  where  the  madam  used  to  go  when  she  went  away 
so  mysterious,  and  I  know  what  she  went  for.  I  suspicioned  it  all 
at  first,  and  to  make  sure,  I  followed  her.  I  don't  mind  owning  up 
that  I  was  hired  to  watch  both  the  madam  and  the  young  miss,  by 
one  as  had  an  interest  in  'cm  both.  The  pnrty  as  hired  me  to  watch 
'em,  wanted  to  know  the  whereabouts  of  another  party — a  small  p  rty 
tether  one  was — because  he  thoufnt  it  might  come  useful  to  him  it 
the  madam  set  herself  agin  him  in  a  certain  projec'  which  he  had, 
which  I  don't  mind  telling  you  was  a-marrying  of  the  young  misa 
herself.  There  wan't  no  love  lost  atween  him  and  the  madam,  but 
she  set  a  s'ore  by  the  small  party,  and  there  he  had  her  if  he  once 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  385 

found  the  small  party.  So,  as  I  say,  I  followed  her,  and  I  found  out 
what  he  wanted  to  know.  It  turned  out  he  didn't  have  to  use  it, 
but'tlut  an't  neither  here  nor  there.  Only  just  it  was  this  way  I 
come  to  know  what  I  do  know  about  it ;  and  enough  trouble  she 
give  me  with  all  the  twistings  and  turnings  she  took  to  go  twenty 
odd  miles  straight  into  the  country,  and  I  seen  her  into  the  very  door 
of  the  nest  she'd  got  hid  away  so  knowingly,  and  I  seen  it  was  my 
own  old  mother  as  kept  the  nest  warm  for  her  while  she  was  away 
from  it  so  continually.  I  was  just  struck  of  a  heap  when  I  seen  my 
old  relation,  for  I  hadn't  a  idee  she  was  down  in  this  country.  I 
know'd  then  where  she  went,  and  I  knowM  as  the  servant  man  I'd 
often  seen  a-coming  to  the  gate  here,  brung  her  news  of  the  small 
party.  Well,  time  went  on,  and  nothing  happened  till  now.  The 
party  as  hired  me  is  married  with  the  young  miss  by  this  time,  and 
i  spose  he  had  the  same  right  to  take  another  wife  that  the  madam 
had  to  take  another  husband — for  he  was  her  husband,  and  the 
small  party  was  a  boy  as  was  had  atween  'em  six  or  eight  years  ago. 
The  boy  is  dead  these  two  days,  and  the  madam  come  home  all  in 
black  fiom  his  funeral." 

"  You  are  wondrously  well  informed,  Joseph.  All  this  I  knew,  be- 
fore. Go  on." 

"  You  know'd  it,  sir  ?  Then,  by  gumbo,  Joe  Perkins  was  the  fool 
some  people  took  him  for.  I'd  a  sworn  all  the  madam's  trouble  was 
to  keep  it  from  you !  And  you  know'd  it  ?" 

His  surprise  was  genuine,  and  under  less  painful  circumstances 
would  have  invoked  laughter.  Obeying  a  gesture,  he  conquered  his 
loquacious  surprise,  and  resumed, 

"  Maybe  you  know  all  I'm  going  on  to  tell  you,  then  ;  but  I'll  tell 
it.  Yesterday  was  a  busy  day  round  this  house,  and  I  couldn't  just 
make  out  all  as  was  going  on.  I  hated  to  give  up  beat,  and  I  hung 
round  till  nigh  eleven  o'clock,  when  just  as  I'd  made  up  my|mind 
to  knock  off,  who  should  I  see  leaning  up  agin  the  gate  but  the 
madam  herself  come  home  from  the  funeral.  She  looked  clean  beat 
out,  and  as  I  know'd  you  was  setting  up  in  the  parlor  almost  in  the 
dark,  I  know'd  as  thcre'd  be  a  time  atween  you,  and  I  clumb  the 
fence  and  come  up  under  the  window.  All  oi  a  sudden  the  shutter 
flung  open,  and  I  was  nigh  bein^  hty  by  it ;  but  you  hadn't  seen  me 
at  all,  as  I  was  afraid,  and  I  sew  you  a-holding  the  madam  in  the 
air,  and  she  fainted  dead  awajH  I  know'd  then  as  something  un- 
common was  up,  and  I  hung  around  to  see  what'd  come  next. 

"  Just  afore  daylight,  around  come  the  carriage,  and  James  and 
Margaret  brought  out  some  trunks  and  piled  them  on  as  best  they 


386  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

could,  when  out  came  the  madam  herself  and  got  into  the  carriage 
with  maid  Margaret.  I'd  seen  the  madam  go  off  before,  but  never 
like  this  in  grand  style,  and,  said  I  to  myself,  she'll  quit  it  when 
they  get  to  the  depot.  Sure  enough,  there  I  found  'em,  and  the 
carriage  left,  empty,  while  she  and  Margaret  went  on  the  cars. 
Knowing,  as  I  did  know,  that  the  small  party  wasn't  calling  her  off 
now,  I  just  took  a  back  seat  on  the  same  train,  and  I  stuck  by  'em 
till  we  got  into  the  same  town  she'd  always  gone  to  before,  and  here 
off  they  got,  bag  and  baggage.  So  back  I  come  on  the  next  train, 
find  says  I,  if  there's  money  to  be  made  out  of  any  one,  now,  the 
master  himself  is  the  one." 

"  Give  me  the  name  of  this  town  you  speak  of,  and  directions  by 
wliich  I  can  find  the  cottage,  and  I  will  pay  you  liberally." 

Joseph's  eyes  brightened  as  he  complied,  and  having  carefully 
written  them  down,  Lisle  fulfilled  his  promise.  He  stopped  with  a 
strange  expression  on  his  face  when  he  had  reached  the  door  upon 
his  way  out. 

"  There's  another  thing  I  could  tell,  as  might  interest  you.  When 
I  said  I «  hung  around  here,'  it  didn't  just  mean  that  I  stayed  every 
minute.  I  went  and  come,  and  once  when  I  went  I  hung  around 
the  city  prison  for  a  bit.  It  was  long  after  dark  when  I  see  a  car- 
riage come  up,  and  out  got  a  police  feller  with  Mr.  Louis  Hartley  at 
his  heels.'' 

Lisle  sprang  up  electrically,  doubting  if  what  he  heard  were 
indeed  real,  and  Joseph  answered  as  though  interrogated, 

"  Yes,  sir,  it's  the  Lord's  truth.  I  asked  some  folks  standing  round 
talking  it  over  after  they  two  went  inside,  what  was  up,  and  they 
said  '  the  cuss  had  been  marrying  too  many  wives.' " 

"  And  did  you  really  see  Hartley  lodged  in  prison  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,  I  didn't  see  him  lodged,  nor  yet  fed,  cause  I  hadn't 
time ;  but  I  see  him  took  in,  and  then  I  come  away.  The  young 
miss  wasn't  with  him,  and  I  don't  know  yet  where  she  is.  I'll  find 
out  all  about  it,  and  save  you  the  trouble,  if  youll  come  atween  me 
and  the  state's  evidence  my  step-son-in-law  is  threatening  agin  me 
in  a  piece  of  business." 

"  Take  yourself  off.  If  you've  been  in  rascality  together,  I  hope 
he  will  turn  state's  evidence,  t  thought  you  had  reformed." 

"  I  did,  but  I  kind  of  backslewecl — I  believed  they  call  it  in  the 
meeting-houses.  I'll  serve  you  faithful  if  you  hush  the  madam's  lips, 
being  M  she's  the  only  one  can  hurt  me.  I  wouldn't  risk  your  find- 
ing her  if  I  didn't  put  trust  in  the  gratitude  you'd  both  ought  to 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  381 

have  towards  me>  when  you  come  back  together  like  two  turtle 
doves." 

Feeling  that  his  anxiety  was  not  appreciated  or  sympathized  with, 
Joseph  turned  away,  and  Lisle  was  left  to  himself 

Relieved  as  he  was  by  knowing  where  Leonore  was  to  be  found, 
hope  brightened  within  him,  and  he  went  cheerfully  in  to  breakfast, 
despite  the  uneasiness  he  suffered  upon  Julie  account.  She  was  in 
safety  among  the  friends  who  had  rescued  her,  probably  under  Mr. 
Venard's  protection.  Before  he  had  carried  out  his  intention  of 
seeking  her  at  Mr.  Venard's  house,  that  gentleman  himself  appeared, 
and  briefly  as  possible  related  what  had  transpired  leading  to  Louis 
Hartley's  arrest. 

Sooon  after  Julie's  departure  from  home  the  preceding  day,  with 
Louis  Hartley,  Mr.  Venard's  sister  Phebe  had  arrived  at  his  house, 
her  suspicions  excited  by  a  letter  Mrs.  Venard  had  written  her 
mou  hs  before,  but  whose  reception  had  been  delayed  by  Phebe's 
absence  from  home  upon  a  search  for  a  Mr.  Horton,  whom  she  had 
married  the  preceding  summer.  Mrs.  Venard's  description  of  tho 
Mr.  Leonard  Horton  stopping  at  the  watering-place,  awoke  the 
deserted  wife  to  the  conviction  that  this  gentleman  must  be  the  iden- 
tical one  for  whom  she  was  seeking,  and  she  had  come  to  her  sister- 
in-law  immediately  upon  receiving  the  letter.  The  gentleman  was 
fully  identified,  the  only  question  being  where  he  might  now  be 
found ;  and  Mrs.  Bertram,  who  opportunely  came  in  to  relate  the 
morning's  interview  with  Julie,  whose  result  would  be  no  secret, 
was  electrified  into  announcing  the  whole  truth  in  a  manner  more 
convincing  then  soothing  to  the  feelings  of  the  injured  wife,  while 
Mrs.  Bertram  hastened  away  to  discover  whether  tho  lovers  had 
indeed  quite  departed.  They  were  indeed  gone,  and  nothing 
remained  but  to  pursue  them  as  quickly  as  possible.  Taking  a 
warrant  for  the  arrest,  Mr.  Venard  started  at  once,  the  city  "  Gretna 
Green  "  being  too  well  known  to  render  any  error  possible,  and  he 
reached  the  place  scarcely  an  hour  later  than  the  pair  whose  waiting 
carriage  still  stood  at  the  clergyman's  door.  The  marriage  ceremony 
•was  but  just  ended,  and  Mr.  Venard  made  no  apologies  for  his 
abrupt  appearance  npon  the  scene.  The  warrant  he  brought  was 
for  the  arrest  of  one  "  Leonard  Horton,"  but  the  alias  was  too  man- 
ifest to  be  quibbled  over,  Julie  herself  establishing  the  fact,  and 
while  the  newly  made  bride  who  was  not  a  wife  returned  to  the  city 
in  Mr.  Venard's  charge,  Mr.  Louis  Hartley,  alias  Leonard  Horton, 
returned  with  a  policeman  and  took  bridal  rooms  alone  in  the  parish 
prison. 


388  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  Mr.  Venard  and  his  charge  reached 
home,  and  he  had  prevailed  upon  her  to  wait  in  his  house  till  morn" 
ing.  She  was  mortified,  pained  and  embarrassed,  and  ashamed  to 
look  Lisle  in  the  face,  but  resolved  to  end  it  all  at  once,  she  had  ac- 
companied Mr.  Venard  home.  Shown  into  a  room  where  Julie  sat 
alone,  she  met  Lisle  suddenly  and  without  warning.  She  ran 
toward  him,  then  stopped  and  hid  her  burning  face  in  her  hands. 
Lisle  looked  at  her  one  moment  in  silence,  and  then  his  heart  soft-' 
ened.  She  was  paying  a  sufficiently  heavy  penalty  for  her  escapade, 
without  one  word  from  him;  and  taking  her  hands  from  the  flushed 
face,  he  kissed  it  very  gently.  She  looked  up  at  him  in  glad  sur- 
prise, and  threw  he  arms  around  his  neck  in  speechless  gratitude. 

"  Come  home,  Julie.  The  house  is  sad  and  lonely  enough  now. 
I  will  tell  you  all  that  has  occurred  during  these  eventful  last 
twenty-four  hours." 

As  they  were  going  out  the  door  Phebe  entered  it  She  and 
Julie  had  already  had  a  long  interview  in  which  everything  was 
discussed  and  explained,  and  it  was  Lisle  whom  she  now  addressed. 

"  He  married  me  just  for  my  money,  after  all,"  she  said.  "  He  is 
welcome  to  it  all  if  he  would  only  be  the  husband  he  vowed  to  be. 
I  gave  him  ten  thousand  dollars  the  week  we  were  married,  to 
4  help  him  on  in  his  business,'  whatever  that  was ;  and  I'd  have 
given  as  much  more  any  time  he  asked  for  it.  He  didn't  ask ;  he 
only  made  debts  I  was  forever  paying,  and  I  sent  him  bank  checks 
all  over  the  country  to  '  enable  him  to  come  home,'  and  he  never 
came  but  once.  He  did  stay  with  me  on  the  plantation  from  Christ- 
mas till  June,  and  then  he  left  to  follow  Julie  to  a  watering-place 
where  I  paid  Aw  bills.  It  is  shameful !" 

Lisle  affirmed  her  verdict  with  more  of  good  faith  than  he  was 
•wont  to  show  her,  and  she  continued, 

"They  say  I  can  prosecute  him  for  bigamy,  and  have  him  shut  up 
in  State's  Prison,  fined,  or  something,  the  very  fine  to  come  out  of 
my  pocket !  I  don't  see  where  I'm  to  get  any  comfort  in  that.  The 
law  hasn't  any  comfort  for  women,  and  wont  give  me  even  a  decent 
revenge  on  him.  It  would  shut  him  up  longer  for  having  stolen  a 
horse  or  fired  a  barn.  But  I  will  prosecute  him." 

They  left  her  weeping  and  storming  by  turns  ;  and  taking  Julie 
back  home,  Lisle  told  her  all  Leonore's  wrongs  and  sufferings  in- 
flicted by  this  rascal  who  would  have  been  Tier  husband  had  not  an 
actual  crime  prevented. 

As  she  plead  her  own  defence,  Lisle  read  the  whole  state  of  affairs, 
and  Edward's  visit  North  was  accounted  for.  Knowing  all  as  he 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAKS.  389 

had  done,  Edward  had  no  cause  to  feel  aggrieved,  and  knowing 
that  he  would  not  linger  an  hour  away  were  he  apprised  of  the  de- 
nouement, he  left  to  Julie  the  slower  medium  of  a  letter  and  lel<v 
graped  him  to  come  back  at  once,  and  then  took  the  next  train  in 
pursuit  of  the  wife  so  soon  to  be  restored  to  him,  as  he  fondly  be- 
lieved. The  events  of  the  day  had  so  delayed  his  departure,  that  it 
•was  quite  dark  before  he  reached  the  cottage,  and  having  knocked 
loudly,  he  stood  impatiently  awaiting  admission.  In  that  one  wait- 
ing moment  a  dread  presentiment  rushed  bver  him  shiveringly. 
Here,  upon  the  threshold,  his  hope  deserted  him,  and  a  dire  forebod- 
ing fell  upon  him  in  place  of  it.  The  door  opened,  at  length,  aud 
the  homely,  honest  face  of  the  servant  Thomas  met  his  eyes. 

"  My  wife,"  he  exclaimed  as  he  took  one  step  forward. 

Thomas  comprehended  who  and  what  he  was,  at  once,  and  with 
visible  embarrassment  he  hesitated  to  reply. 

"  Come  in,  sir,  come  in,  the  wind  is  sharp  and  cold  enough,"  he 
•aid  evasively,  showing  his  visitor  to  the  fire. 

Lisle's  impatience  was  torturing,  and  he  said  again, 

"  My  wife,  Mrs.  Sterling.     Is  she  here  ?" 

"  Well,  no,  sir.     She  were  here,  but  she  went  away  hours  ago." 
£,  "  Where  has  she  gone  ?    Tell  me  in  heaven's  name.'* 

Again  the  faithful  Thomas  hesitated,  but  compassionating  the 
torture  he  recognized,  he  answered  respectfully, 

"  She  sailed  for  Liverpool  three  hours  since ;  she  and  her  maid." 

Lisle  groaned  in  agony  of  spirit. 

"Gone,  gonej!  sailed  for  Liverpool,  did  you  say?  How  do  you 
know  it  F 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it,  sir.  This  very  morning,  afore  we 
were  astir,  the  lady  and  her  maid  reached  here,  and  sick  and  pale 
she  were.  Dame  Perkins  warmed  her  and  comforted  her  the  best 
she  was  able,  but  the  little  creeter's  heart  was  that  broke  that  sho 
only  sobbed  and  cried  the  more  for  all  the  kindness  as  was  showed 
her  ;  and  then  she  told  the  Dame  that  all  was  over  between  herself 
and  you  forever  and  ever,  and  that  she  was  going  away,  any  where 
out  of  America.  She  wouldn't  consent  te  stay  here,  spite  of  all  we 
could  do,  and  when  maid  Margaret  was  to  have  be:  n  left  behind, 
she  went  on  her  knees  to  the  sweet  lady  as  couldn't  deny  her,  and 
off  they  went  together.  I  went  with  them  and  see  them  both  abo  ird 
the  ship  as  was  already  weighing  anchor,  and  they'll  touch  land  no 
more  till  they  reach  Halifax.  There  they'll  touch,  and  the  lady 
promised  to  write  a  line  back  to  the  Dame,  who  loves  her  like  she 
was  an  own  child,  however  humbly." 


390  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

"  What  ship  did  she  go  on  ?     Do  you  remember  the  name  ?" 

"  The  '  Flying  Scud,'  bound  to  Liverpool.  Here  I  have  the  clear- 
ance notice  just  as  I  cut  it  out  of  a  city  paper.  '  Flying  Scud,  Guble, 
master.'  You're  welcome  to  it,  sir." 

Words  were  not  necessary  to  interpret  Lisle's  hopes  and  fears,  and 
wringing  the  faithful  servant's  hand  he  rushed  out  and  away.  Too 
late,  too  late !  How  every  hope  mocked  him  !  Still  one  was  left, 
he  could  reach  Halifax  before  them,  by  rail ;  here  he  would  claim  his 
wife  and  bring  her  back  to  their  home,  for  all  tune.  Never  again 
would  he  lose  sight  of  her.  Hope  though  deferred  was  strong  within 
him  as  he  returned  to  his  cheerless  home  where  Julie  waited  for  him 
anxiously. 

The  next  morning  a  messenger  came  from  Louis  Hartley,  who, 
upable  to  procure  bail,  awaited  his  trial  in  the  prison.  Julie  had 
firmly  refused  to  see  him  or  hold  any  communication  with  him,  and 
it  was  to  Lisle  lie  now  addressed  an  appeal  for  one  moment's  inter- 
view. Thinking  it  better  to  hear  what  Louis  had  to  say,  he  granted 
the  request,  and  he  and  Louis  met  for  the  first  time  hi  years. 

With  a  weak  appeal  for  compassion,  Louis  told  his  story  with 
such  excuses  as  he  could  frame',  and  complained  of  Julie's  heartless- 
ness  and  cruelty  to  him.  "  If  I  did  wrongly  it  was  for  her  sake  I 
did  it,  and  she  owes  me  appreciation  at  least,"  he  said  when  all  was 
told. 

Contempt  sealed  Lisle's  lips.  He  had  no  words  for  such  a  propo- 
sition as  this,  and  he  turned  away  disgusted.  He  had  expected  de- 
fiance, but  not  such  unreason  as  this.  Louis  stopped  him  with  a 
gesture. 

"  Lisle  Sterling,  you  of  all  men  owe  me  justice,  if  not  some  gener- 
osity. You  stand  in  my  place  as  master  of  a  fortune  which  you 
kept  me  out  of  by  your  schemes  and  wheedling  of  a  weak  old  man, 
who  was  my  guardian  long  before  he  became  yours  ;  all  I  ever  lost, 
you  have  gained.  Yet  now  you  turn  your  back  upon  me.  Well, 
go,  but  at  least,  grant  me  one  interview  with  Julie.  I  ask  nothing 
more." 

"  A  nux.est  request,  most  truly  I     Will  you  receive  her  here  ?'' 

"  What  does  it  matter  where  ?  If  she  loved  me  she  would  come ; 
if  she  does  not,  let  her  tell  me  so.  I  can  die  but  once,  aad  that  as 
well  first  as  last." 

'« If  such  is  really  your  intention,  let  me  suggest  that '  procrastina- 
tion is  the  thief  of  time.'  Julie  not  only  does  not  love  you,  as  you 
well  know,  but  she  dtspises  you,  and  were  you  free  to  day  she  wouU 
never  look  upon  your  face  again.'' 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE   POPLARS.  391 

"  Then  my  death  will  be  upon  her  soul,"  Louis  tragically  ex- 
claimed. 

Lisle  smiled  ironically.  "  It  is  too  unimportant  a  matter  to  lie  very 
heavily  upon  it.  I  applaud  your  resolution,  certainly  the  best  one  I 
ever  knew  you  to  form.  If  you  were  capable  of  anything  praise- 
worthy, I  should  advise  you  to  live  and  become  a  better  man  for  the 
sake  of  your  wife,  who  even  yet  would  forgive  you.  But  you  are  not." 

Louis'  lip  curled  contemptuously.  "  My  death  may  touch  her 
temper,  but  not  her  heart,  for  she  has  none.  She'll  make  the  whole 
story  an  episode  for  one  of  her  astonishing  novels,  and  so  give  them 
o  touch  of  the  real  they  never  before  possessed.  I  am  her  benefac- 
tor." 

"  May  the  consciousness  of  your  benefactions  abide  with  you  !" 
and  with  such  a  benediction,  Lisle  left  him. 

Unwilling  to  leave  home  while  matters  were  so  unsettled,  Lisle 
resolved  to  remain  till  the  last  day  he  could  do  so  and  still  reach 
Halifax  before  the  ship  could  possibly  arrive  there.  Each  hour  ho 
dreaded  the  public  txposb  of  the  incident  in  which  Julie  had  been  so 
important  an  actor ;  but  if  it  was  known  among  the  knights  of  the 
quill,  the  high  position  of  the  parties  connected  with  it  screened 
them  from  public  comment,  and  as  yet  nothing  had  been  said.  So 
another  morning  dawned  clear  and  bright.  Glancing  over  the 
columns  of  the  morning  paper,  Lisle  uttered  an  ejaculation  that 
startled  Julie  from  a  similar  occupation  opposite  him.  "  Louis 
Hartley  is  dead  !  Committed  suicide,  last  night,  in  the  city  jail!" 
Incredulous  of  what  she  heard,  Julie  sprang  to  her*  feet  with  an 
eager  exclamation.  Lisle  handed  her  the  paper,  pointing  out  the 
item,  and  she  read, 

"  Louis  Hartley,  alias  l  Leonard  Horton,'  awaiting  trial  upon  a 
charge  of  bigamy,  committed  suicide  last  night  in  the  jail  where  he 
was  temporarily  confined.  It  is  hinted  that  '  disappointed  love,' 
under  the  scorn  inflicted  upon  him  by  the  lady  fair  whom  he  had 
done  the  honor  of  making  his  second  wife  while  the  first  one  was 
yet  living  in  the  flesh,  was  the  direct  cause  of  this  rash  act,  which,  if 
it  lias  not  gained  heaven  a  saint,  has  certainly  relieved  earth  of  a 
rascal.  We  give  no  names,  as  we  would  not  willingly  offend." 

The  red  blush  of  shame  and  chagrin  swept  over  her  very  forehead, 
and  she  dropped  speechless  upon  the  sofa.  Lisle  smiled. 

"  You  won't  wear  widow's  weeds,  little  Julie  ?  Foolish  girl ; 
thank  your  lucky  stars  thnt  you  have  escaped  so  easily.  I  advise 
you  to  hush  the  clamor  of  busy  tongues  by  the  ringing  of  marriage 
bells.  Society  dearly  loves  sensation.  Have  you  written  Edward  ?" 

"  Not  a  word  !     How  could  I V" 


392  THB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  FOPLARS. 

With  a  quizzical  look  he  took  his  hat  and  walked  out.  But  a 
great  relief  had  come  to  them  both  in  thu  last,  best  act  Louis  Hart- 
ley had  ever  perpetrated.  Each  was  free  from  the  blight  his  living 
presence  cast  upon  them,  and  to  Lisle  especially  it  was  as  the  dis- 
solving of  a  nightmare.  Ah,  if  Leonore  iu  this  hour  knew  it,  how 
gladly,  joyfully,  would  she  return  !  No  fear,  now,  that,  distrusting 
the  enduring  force  of  his  own  arguments  over  himself,  she  would 
dread  to  put  them  to  such  a  test  as  he  would  have  insisted  upon  I 
She  coukl  come  back  to  him  with  an  assured  heart,  a  conscience 
free  from  one  selfi-reproach,  untroubled  by  one  foreboding.  His 
heart  beat  lightly  under  the  consciousness. 

The  hours  flew  by  till  that  one  arrived  for  which  Lisle  waited, 
and  as  he  sat  alone  late  at  night,  expectantly,  the  welcome  ringing 
of  the  bell  greeted  his  ear,  and  Edward  was  with  him. 

Till  among  "  the  wee  sma'  hours  ayout  the  twal,"  the  two  brothers 
sat  and  talked  together,  discussing  lastly  Edward's  visit  home. 

Old  Mrs.  Sterling  had  died  while  he  was  with  her ;  this  Edward 
had  told  him  earlier ;  but  neither  had  cared  to  discuss  the  details 
till  other  engrossing  topics  were  disposed  of.  To  Lisle  she  had 
never  been  a  tender  moiher,  and  Edward  himself,  her  best  beloved 
of  all  her  children,  had  shown  her  duty  rather  than  affection.  Of 
all  nearest  her,  the  husband  whom  she  had  so  bitterly  wronged  was 
her  sincerest  mourner. 

"  D.d  she  speak  of  rue  ?''  Lisle  asked  with  a  fear  at  his  heart  that 
shook  his  voice. 

"  Much  and  often.  It  really  seemed  as  if  avenging  justice  rebuked 
her  cruelty  to  you  through  all  these  years !  She  was  the  most  un- 
happy creature  I  ever  saw,  if  not  quite  a  maniac.  She  had  a  most 
singular  fancy  concerning  you,  Lisle." 

"  And  that " — Lisle  suggested  breathlessly  but  with  forced  calm- 
ness. 

"  "Was  that  you  were  the  son  of  Dr.  Kelley.  She  asserted  it  again 
and  again,  urging  the  poor  old  man  to  disown  you  in  his  last  will, 
and  leave  the  property  to  me.  I  think  she  would  have  disowned 
all  her  other  children  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  one  wish. 
"'Twas  strange !" 

"And  the  old  gentleman,  what  did  he  say  to  t!  is  strange  fa 

"Jus:  what  you  might  anticipate,  knowing  how  much  he  alw.iys 
loved  and  respected  her,  aggra-,  ating  as  she  was  toward  him.  II U 
only  fear  was  that  malicious  tongues  might  repeat  her  ravings,  to 
her  projud.co  and  yours.  It  was  fortuu-.te  for  us  all,  that  her  .ifo 


THE  HOUSfi  BEllIND  THE  POPLVU3.  393 

was  too  full  of  all  the  homvly  virtues,  to  leave  one  spot  for  scandal' 
to  fix  upon  ?"  i 

Lisle  breathed  more  freely  under  the  reassuring  words. 

"  Poor  old  father,"  he  s  iid  compassionately.  "  He  never  ceased 
to  feel  flattered  that  a  Frilzjarnes  had  stooped  from  her  high  degree 
and  deigned  to  become  his  wife !  I've  no  doubt  he  mourns  her 
more  deeply  and  sincerely  than  many  a  husband  mourns  a  wife  who 
embodied  all  the  virtues  and  devoted  her  very  life  to  his  happiness  !" 

"  Yes,  indeed.  He  has  never  in  1m  whole  life  so  rebelled  against 
the  will  of  '  a  Divine  Providence  '  as  now  when  '  it  for  some  wise 
purpose,  though  a  hidden  one,  permitted  the  last  hours  of  so  good 
a  woman  and  Christian  to  be  troubled  to  mysteriously.'  Of  course 
I  tried  to  teach  him  something  of  the  diagnosis  of  brain  dis- 
eases, and  to  account  learnedly  for  aberrations  of  mind;  but  it  was 
useless.  He  couldn't  have  looked  more  pained  and  shocked  if  I  had 
suddenly  professed  and  expounded  our  old  grandmother's  theory 
about  people  1x  ing  'let  down  out  of  the  fog.'  Mental  aberration, 
diseases  of  the  brain,  and  total  lack  of  brains,  are  all  proifciacuousiy 
hustled  on  to  the  broad  shoulders  of  Providence,  till  the  loctd  is  pro- 
digious !  Will  the  reign  of  common  sense  ever  come  ?" 

So,  his  mother  was  really  dead,  with  her  secret  and  his  unknown, 
narrow  as  had  been  the  escape  from  its  shameful  exposure !  It  was 
dreadful  in  the  abstract  for  a  son  to  feel  a  sense  of  inexpressible  re- 
lief at  the  death  of  a  mother;  but  dependent  upon  her  strength  of 
mind,  as  he  had  been,  to  guard  that  one  bitter  shame  of  his  1  fe,  it 
could  not  be  otherwise.  The  curse  under  which  he  was  born  had 
been  bitter  enough  upon  his  life  to  exemplify  the  wording  of  the  re- 
lentless text :  "  For  I  am  a  very  jealous  God,  and  visit  the  sins  of 
the  fathers  upon  the  children,  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation ;" 
words  to  which  Christians  bow  the  head,  which  childish  lips  are 
taught  to  utter,  as  if  they  shadowed  forth  God's  own  justice  and 
mercy  to  erring  mortals ! 

L;sle  had  borne  this  curse,  but  he  endured  it  as  of  human,  not 
divine  origin.  It  was  lifted  from  him  at  last.  He  alone  knew  it, 
and  for  the  first  time  he  tolerated  it.  No  more  of  the  secret  (Trend 
of  that  hour  when  he  should  h:ing  h's  hi  ad  in  the  presence  of  his 
fellowmen,  feeling  that  an  impostor's  m  intle  had  been  s'rippid  Ir.  m 
his  shoulders !  Unutterable  relief!  He  was  half  mad  with  the  de- 
licious intoxication  of  this  first  feeling  of  security  from  all  that  h  ul 
hung  like  a  pall  around  his  lie.  SUep  and  he  were  strangers 
through  that  night;  but  the  spirit  within  him  had  found  a  sweotor 
rest  than  "  tir'd  nature'^  sweet  ivstorer"  had  power 


THE  HOUSE  BEITIND   X.'lE    1 OPLARS. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

JULIE'S  good  genius  inspired  her  to  unclose  her  eyes  at  an  un- 
usually early  hour,  quile  unconscious  as  she  was  of  the  arrival  upon 
the  preceding  night,  and  haying  run  down  to  the  parlor,  who^e 
brightness  and  warmth  were  most  grateful  upon  this  wintry  morn- 
ing, she  came  unexpectedly  upon  Edward  himself,  who,  unable  to 
sleep  under  the  spurring  of  a  busy  brain,  had  risen  as  soon  as  the 
fires  were  lighted.  She  uttered  a  little  cry,  forced  from  her  by  the 
Very  intensity  of  joy  and  surprise,  and  darting  forward  he  caught 
her  in  his  arms. 

No  need  of  explanations  here,  where  nothing  had  been  concealed, 
and  Lisle  had  the  night  before  related  all  that  transpired  in  Ed- 
ward's absence.  It  was  a  happy  hour  that  followed,  and  Lisle's  ad- 
vice relative  to  the  "  marriage  bells  "  was  advocated  by  Edward 
with  lips  far  more  eloquent  and  persuasive. 

"  This  is  the  very  season  of  holidays,  Julie.  "Why  not  thus  celebrate 
a  '  merry  Christina?,'  and  send  Lisle  on  his  way  rejoicing.  He  vows 
he  will  resign  his  guardianship  before  he  ever  again  trusts  you  alone, 
and  I  don't  know  who  would  more  joyfully  assume  it  than  I." 

"But,  Edward,  how  will  you  emluru  all  the  gossip  of  which  I  am 
sure  to  be  the  object  of  this  disgraceful  denouement  of  bigamy,  suicide, 
and  the  rest  of  it,  spread  abroad  I  Are  wives,  like  '  hearts,  caught 
at  the  rebound?'" 

"  Now  and  then,  by  those  who  have  skill  and  good  fortune.  I 
should  have  waited  for  the  widow,  you  know ;  so  this  is  my  good 
fortune.  I  am  quite  content  with  it,  believe  me.  Do  you  remember 
how  many  years  I  have  waited  for  this  hour  however  it  might  come  ?'' 

"Yes,  I  remember.  But,  Edward,  this  is  serious.  Don't  try  to 
laugh  me  out  of  the  conviction  that  society  will  demand  the  fullest 
penalty  for  my  mistake.  If  this  is  being  something  like  'a  heroine,' 
I  ccrlaiu!y  don't  feel  very  heroic  ;  and  I  don't  want  you  to  come  in 
for  a  s'nare  of  what  doesn't  belong  to  you.'' 

She  looked  very  serious,  but  he  laughed. 

'•  So  it  is  society  you  are  afraid  of,  is  it  ?  May  I  never  be  gu'^ty 
of  setting  up  a  gokleu'  calf  and  then  falling  down  and  worshipping  it ! 
As  father  would  say,  '  there's  teaching  ngainst  it.'  What,  afler  all, 


THE   HOUSE   BEHIND   THE   POPLARS.  80.3 

is  society,  but  a  golden  calf?  probably  the  very  one  figuratively  men* 
tioned  in  the  incident  referred  to." 

She  shook  her  head  dissendngly,  and  he  continued  more  seriously, 
"  Tell  me  if  you  can,  who,  ami  what,  is  '  society.'  Is  it,  or  is  it  not, 
a  collection  of  individuals,  each  one  of  which  is  entitled  to  the  righta 
and  privileges  guaranteed  by  the  Constitution — '  life,  liberty,  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness.'  It  is  a  very  good  brotherhood  when  all 
its  members  agree ;  but  were  I  one  of  its  law  givers,  I  would  utterly 
refuse  to  bow  down  and  do  reverence  to  the  edicts  I  had  helped  to 
frame  for  olhers  to  follow. 

•As  gome  tall  guide-post  stands  upon  the  down, 
Its  hands  still  pointing  to  the  distant  town,' 

I'd  point  out  the  way  to  others,  but  I  wouldn't  be  forced  to  pursue 
it  myself.  Just  assume  the  right  to  revolt,  once,  remembering  that 
numerically  you  are  as  strong  as  any  among  the  fellowship,  and 
though  to-day  you  may  constitute  a  minority,  to-moirow  some  other 
unlucky  wight  will  stand  in  the  breach,  and  you  can  be  relentless 
with  a  majority.  As  the  French  say, '  chaque  un  a  son  tour."1 " 

She  laughed  at  the  irreverent  philosophy ;  but  not  a  difficult  con- 
vert to  any  creed  which  her  own  heart  favored,  she  gave  assent  to 
his  project,  and  the  gratifying  intelligence  greeted  Lisle,  who  soon 
after  descended.  She  hud  dreaded  many  sarcastic  comments  not 
serenely  to  be  borne,  but  he  made  none.  He  was  gentle  even  to 
pensiveness  this  whole  day,  and  as  much  rejoiced  as  surprised  at  it, 
the  felt  herself  supremely  blessed. 

Of  course  those  who  dared,  protested  against  so  quiet  a  wedding, 
ins; sting  that  it  should' be  deferred  till  Mrs.  Sterling  returned  homu 
from  the  visit  she  was  supposed  to  be  making  out  of  the  city,  when 
they  should  make  amends  for  Lisle's  fraud  upon  society  in  his  own 
quiet  marriage,  wliile  everybody  was  out  of  town. 

Edward  put  such  protests  laughingly  aside,  affirming  that  ho 
dared  not  give  the  bride  elect  time  to  change  her  mind,  and  the  mar- 
riage was  solemnized  amid  only  the  little  circle  that  had  so  long 
been  almost  like  one  family. 

Too  supremely  happy  to  care  what  might  be  said  of  this  second 
m  .mage  ceremony  within  one  week,  Julie  bade  a  light  farewell  to 
the  old  guardian  in  accepting  the  new,  and  Lisle  left  them  upon  his 
journey  of  so  many  a  weary  mile  of  rail,  to  intercept  at  Halifax  that 
wife  whom  the  good  ship  was  hourly  bearing  to  meet  him. 

Only  one  item  rippled  the  serene  domestic  life  of  the  newly  mar- 
ried lovers  >vho  kept  honeymoon  in  the  quiet  home.  Poor  Mrs. 


396  THE   HOUSK   LEIIIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

Perkins  fell  under  inisfoitune.  Alarmed  at  the  probable  result  of 
the  ungrateful  Eill  haying  actually  turned  state's  evidence,  Joseph 
evaded  arrest  by  dodging  the  minions  of  the  law,  and  so  flying  the 
country,  taking  -with  him  as  the  divider  of  his  troubles  and  the  douU 
ler  of  his  joys,  the  faithless  Melissa,  whose  tender  offspi  ing  hud  first 
been  conveniently  and  ingeniously  sent  round  to  pay  a  visit  to  its 
grandmother.  A  lengthy  visit  it  bade  likely  to  prove,  and  the  old 
dame  was  wroth. 

"It  is  bad  enough,"  she  sobbed  indignantly,  "to  be  descried  in. 
my  old  age,  and  that  for  my  own  daughter  which  was  always  a  trial 
to  me,  but  to  put  a  teething  littie  beast  as  is  its  father's  very  image, 
off  on  me,  and  that  father  just  sent  to  the  Penitentiary  for  Lord 
knows  how  long,  is  a  burning  shame !  I  only  wish  'em  joy  of  each 
other,  for  a  shiftless  couple  they  are,  and  shiftless  they'll  be." 

It  was  a  sad  state  of  affairs  truly ;  but  there  was  a  tinge  of  the  lu- 
dicrous in  it  that  made  it  less  affecting  to  others  than  to  herself,  ns 
is  often  the  case  in  this  vexatious,  irreverent  world. 


Blow,  blow,  blow.  What  a  screaming  of  the  tempest  let"  loose 
over  the  earth,  what  wrenching  and  racking  of  the  tortured  objects 
that  offered  an  unavailing  resistance  to  its  rush  and  whirl  1 

All  night  as  Lisle  pursued  his  journey  upon  this  the  last  end  of 
its  course,  the  fearful  storm  kept  company  with  the  shrieking  engine 
that  struggled  pautingly  forward  with  the  lumbering  train,  cowering 
before  the  dangers  that  beset  its  progress,  without  a  hope  of  a  coming 
lull,  or  defence  and  protection  fiorn  the  storm.  Now  and  then 
branches  wrenched  violently  from  the  overhanging  forest  trees  were 
hurled  against  the  closed  carriages,  while  here  and  there  some  rugged 
member  of  the  fraternity  lay  prostrate  by  the  hurricane,  and  its  fel- 
lows held  wake  over  it  with  arms  tossed  frantically  in  air,  and  their 
angry  voices  lending  their  clamor  to  the  unearthly  shrieks  that 
rushed  on  into  liie  inky  darkness  as  if  to  announce  the  approach  of 
the  adventurous  train  that  dared  this  night  invade  their  territories. 

Blow,  blow,  blow.  While  the  wind  swt-pt  over  them,  the  way- 
worn, terrified  passengers  huddled  together  in  the  coaches  closed  to 
stifling  and  heavy  with  the  foul  air  of  many  breaths,  and  talked  in 
hoarse  whispers  of  the  dangers  by  land  and  sea,  while  the  more 
courageous  told  fearful  tales  of  flood  and  field,  and  hair-breadth 
scapes  that  startled  the  crying  children  into  breathless  silence. 

Ever  aud  anon  nervous  hands  wiped  from  the  windows  the  wintry 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  397 

sleet  that  dimmed  them  and  trickled  down  in  little  rills  under  the 
influence  of  the  warmth  within,  and  eager  eyes  strained  themselves 
to  pierce  the  blackness  beyond.  Vain  effort.  Nothing  could  be 
distinguished  under  that  inky  sky,  and  the  heavy,  clinging  damp- 
ness, directly  reobscured  the  window  pane  whose  momentary  clear. 
ne^s  had  but  rendered  the  darkness  beyond  more  visible.  Blow, 
l>inw,  blow.  All  the  crime  and  wickedness  that  ever  stalked  the 
earth,  were  holding  high  carnival  this  night,  shrieking  their  frenzied 
in  rth  into  the  startled  ear  of  Heaven,  huzzaing  with  wild  glee  as 
some  exploit  more  terrible  than  the  rest  was  proclaimed  abroad. 
Wild  under  the  reign  of  anarchy,  staid  old  monarchs  of  the  forest 
th  it  had  for  half  a  lifetime  swayed  their  sceptres  right  royally  over 
their  peaceful  subjects,  now  cast  aside  their  crownly  pomp  and  dig- 
nity, and  joined  in  the  mad  revel  with  savage  glee.  It  was  a  fearful 
night,  and  all  creation  seemed  but  a  handful  of  clay  to  be  whisked 
about  at  will  by  the  warring  elements  that  battled  and  wrangled 
over  it.  Even  when  the  colJ,  gray  daylight  dawned,  the  heavy 
clouds  fought  inch  by  inch  as  they  were  driven  back,  and  ever  and 
anon  ticrco  blasts  not  on  duty  at  the  grand  assault,  pounced  down 
upon  some  unoffending  atom  and  annihilated  it  at  one  sweep,  herald- 
ing its  triumph  by  a  rushing  hiss,  and  guste  of  raiu  and  hail  followed 
iii  its  train,  wreaking  their  impotent  malice  upon  whatever  had 
survived  the  general  wreck. 

Tluis  the  belated  train  arrived  at  last  at  the  seaport  which  had 
be -n  the  haven  of  Lislc's  hopes  through  so  many  weary  hours;  aud 
racked  with  anxiety  at  the  inevitable  danger  to  all  who  \vere  ocean 
t^ssc  I  mder  such  a  tempest,  he  hastened  to  learn  if  the  ship  'Flyinpj 
Sc.ui'  were  yet  safe  in  port.  His  heart  stood  still  under  the  answer 
he  received.  The  ship  had  touched  there  long  before  she  was  ex- 
pected, having  made  the  quickest  time  on  record,  and  had  proceeded 
on  her  way  to  Liverpool.  Disappointment  rendered  him  speechless, 
and  he  leaned  against  a  pillar  fur  support  under  the  mortal  weakness 
that  overpowered  him.  Again  too  late,  despite  the  wide  margin  of 
time  he  had  allowed  for  all  possible  detentions  and  accidents!  It 
seemed  as  if  the  powers  of  earth  and  heaven  had  combined  to  baflle 
him;  and  a  superstitious  thrill  ran  through  every  nerve.  For  the 
lit  si  time  he  lost  all  hope  ;  and  staggering  into  the  street  he  wandered 
u]»  -md  down,  lost  to  all  sense  of  time  and  place.  Suddenly  the  im- 
poit  of  the  news  cried  through  the  streets  flashed  through  his  be- 
numbed mind,  and  he  snatched  eagerly  at  the  '  extra '  in  a  newsboy';* 
hands. 


393  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND   THE  POPLARS. 

".News  by  telegraph.  Shipwreck  of  the  '  Flying  Scud,'  Guble 
master,  bound  to  Liverpool.  Stranded  off  Cape  B,  ice,  during  the 
storm.  Loss  of  life  not  yet  known.  Survivors  being  taken  off  by 
the 'Sea-Bird.'" 

Such  were  the  items  Lisle  comprehended  as  he  glanced  through 
the  extra ;  and  learning  that  a  steamer  was  about  leaving  for  the 
•scene  of  the  wreck,  he  hastened  on  board,  with  many  others. 

The  storm  had  quite  abated  now  ;  but  the  wintry  uir  was  bitterly 
keen,  and  the  waves  rose  and  fell  angrily  as  they  ploughed  through 
them.  It  was  easy  to  imagine  how  greedily  they  had  snatched  at 
their  prey  during  those  fearful  hours  of  tempest-tossed  peril,  how 
they  had  gathered  in  white-capped  majesty  and  dashed  themselves 
against  it  as  it  struck  the  reef.  They  seemed  now  like  a  horde  of 
murderers  exulting  over  their  work,  and  sick  with  horror  Lisle  turn- 
ed his  eyes  away,  and,  struggling  against  the  madness  that  threat- 
ened him,  tried  to  fix  his  attention  upon  the  conversation  around 
him.  There  were  many  passengers  on  board,  called  out  by  the 
usual  variety  of  emotions,  some  tortured  with  anxiety  for  loved 
ones  thus  imperilled,  others  forced  by  mere  love  of  excitement,  or 
by  ennui  to  visit  the  scene  of  the  catastrophe.  Their  remarks  would 
have  waked  a  smile  in  one  quite  unconce;ned;  but  Lisle  looked 
\\  ith  a  species  of  horror  upon  one  man  who  seemed  more  heartless 
than  all  others  ;  a  tall,  spare  person,  who  as  he  incessantly  chewed 
his  tobacco,  discoursed  upon  the  chances  of  the  wreck. 

"  I  had  a  mother-in-law  on  board  that  ship,"  he  said,  "  who  owns 
a  good  bit  of  property  first  and  last,  that'll  come  to  my  wife  if  the 
old  woman  is  drowned  ;  and  I  thought  I'd  just  come  over  and  see. 
If  it  is  so,  I'll  go  back  to  Jersey  and  set  up  a  grocery  I've  got  my 
eye  on.  I  don't  wish  the  old  woman  any  harm,  but  she  is  get: ing 
on  in  years,  and  we  all  have  to  give  up  sooner  or  later.  Mother-in- 
laws  are  mostly  easy  spared." 

The  idle  knot  around  him  laughed  carelessly,  and  kindred  jests 
were  told  by  one  and  another  of  the  crowd. 

It  seemed  too  terrible,  this  jesting  with  death  under  so  frightful  a 
form,  and  under  existing  circumstances.  The  very  waves  were  less 
cruel,  and  bending  over  them  Lisle  gazed  down  upon  them  till  a 
wild  fascination  possessed  him. 

They  soon  reached  the  wreck.  There  it  lay,  pounding  on  the 
reef,  the  waves  breaking  over  it  at  every  surge,  but  not  a  soul  to  be 
seen.  The  Sea-Bird  had  finished  herwoik  and  departed,  btaring 


THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLAK3.  399 

the  rescued  to  the  shore.    Thither  they  followed  hef^acl  tho 
search  for  the  missing  commenced. 

With  au  aching  palpitation  of  the  heart,  Lisle  flew  from  place  to 
place,  longing  yet  dreading  to  find  her  whom  he  Bought.  How 
would  he  find  her;  dead,  or  yet  alive  r*  He  da-ed  not  think.  In 
the  midst  of  his  search  he  met  the  man  who  had  come  over  to  look 
after  his  mother-in-law.  Lisle  would  have  passed  him  shudderingly, 
but  his  steps  were  stayed  by  the  man  who,  after  all,  seemed  to  have 
some  comp  ission  in  his  nature,  stirred  by  Lisle's  wistful  eyes. 

"  Looking  for  som»  one,  stranger  ?"  he  asked  not  unkindly. 

"  Yes,  my  wife,"  he  gasped  in  reply. 

"Young  and  handsome  woman,  with  a  black-eyed  maid  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes.     Have  you  seen  them  ? ' 

'•  Well,  I  guess  so.  There's  the  likes  of  them  in  that  little  house 
yonder,  where  I  found  mother  in-law  as  hearty  and  sound  as  ever." 

Without  hearing  another  word,  Lisle  rushed  away  to  the  indicated 
spot.  Leonore  was  indeed  before  him,  but  pallid,  inanimate  appar- 
ently dead,  with  the  faithful  Margaret  weeping  over  her  as  sho 
strove  to  recall  life  and  animation.  Dashing  everything  aside, 
Lisle  clasped  his  wife  iu  his  arms.  Not  dead,  not  dead!  Oh  j»y 
unutterable  1 

Margaret  stood  and  gazed  at  him  in  mute  astonishment,  unable 
to  comprehend  what  she  beheld.  With  many  a  murmured  word 
Lisle  laid  the  fainting  form  back  upon  the  pillow,  and  shutting  out 
all  intruders,  nursed  her  back  to  life.  Once  more  the  dark  eyes 
opened,  woiidtringly,  but  with  a  blessed  light  in  their  depths  as 
they  fixed  themselves  upon  his  face.  ) 

"Leouore,  my  wife,  my  little  wife  1"  he  exclaimed  as  tears  of  love 
and  joy  fell  from  his  eyes. 

She  raised  her  hand  caressingly  to  his  face ;  but  a  deadly  weak- 
ness was  upon  her,  ill  as  she  was  from  long  endured  excitement 
culminating  in  this  catastrophe  that  had  nearly  torn  her  from  him 
forever.  That  feeble,  loving  touch  was  dearer  to  him  now  than  any 
caress  of  the  past,  mute  assurance  as  it  was  that  she  accepted,  uu- 
questioningly,  the  name  and  title  he  thus  restored  to  her. 

The  long  hours  he  sat  beside  her  while  life  and  strength  were 
waved  back  to  her,  were  pet  haps  the  very  happiest  they  had  known 
together.  The  blessed  interchange  of  thought  and  confidence,  tiie 
loving  protest  she  offered  when  he  accused  himself  for  ail  the  suffer- 
ing his  bigotry  had  caused  her,  these  were  grateful  enough  to  eaeii ; 
but  when  he  told  her  of  that  suicidal  death  which  lifted  the  lasi, 


400  THE   HOUSE   BEUIXD   THE   POPLARS. 

cloud  from  their  united  live.*,  she  only  said,  "thank  God,"  and 
nestled  her  cheek  in  his  hand,  too  grateful  to  express  her  joy. 

LUle  carried  her  to  New  York  when  returning  strength  permit- 
ted, and  from  here  he  wrote  the  joyful  letter  so  anxiously  awaited 
by  Edward  and  Julie  in  their  southern  home,  where  he  hoped  so 
soon  to  join  them. 

•'  How  tweet  it  is  to  feel  that  there  are  no  shadows  or  secrets  le- 
tween  us  henceforward  and  forever  !  How  can  any  true  wife  and 
true  husband  fail  to  realize  that  perfect  happiness  cannot  exist,  ex- 
cept, with  perfect  trust  and  confidence  in  each  other  ?  The  lips  that 
smile  over  an  unuttered  secret  but  mock  at  married  happiness." 

"  Hush,  Leonore,''  he  whispered,  conscience  stung. 

"How  can  1  '  hush'  when  ^ny  very  soul  is  so  full  of  happiness! 
You  cannot  realize  what  it  is  to  cast  such  a  burden  from  one's  con- 
science— to  feel  that  one  is  no  longer  a  hypocrite  and  a  living  lie  to 
all  one  loves  best  on  earth.'* 

"  I  will  know  it,  Ltonore.  I  have  the  same  need  to  learn  it  that 
you  had.  I  have  erred  toward  you  no  less  than  you  toward  me. 
Pride  and  shame  both  kept  me  silent  when  I  should  have  spoken, 
before  I  dared  to  make  you  the  wife  of  such  an  unfortunate  as  I !  I 
ha  I  no  light  to  wife  or  child,  Leonore,  for  I  had  not  so  much  as  a 
name  to  bestow  upon  them.  Cursed  in  my  birth,  I  am  a  "living  ex- 
ample of  woman's  treachery  and  man's  selfishness,  t-he  who  called 
me  son,  hated  me  for  the  one  fact  of  my  existence;  he  whom  I  called 
father,  owned  no  drop  of  kindred  blood  with  that  coursing  in  my 
veins.  An  illegitimate  son,  the  very  name  I  bear  is  false,  the  name 
I  dared  impose  upon  you  as  my  wife.  Forgive  me  if  you  can  !  How 
could  I  tell  this  to  the  woman  I  loved,  before  I  had  bound  her  to  me 
as  wi'.h  bands  of  steel !" 

She  bint  her  head  upon  his  breast  in  sublime  pity  and  affection, 
but  did  not  interrupt  him  by  a  word.  Soothed  by  the  action,  ho 
said  more  gently, 

'•  Had  I  been  the  unfortunate  proof  of  an  unwise  love,  I  could  for- 
give even  the  curse  thus  forced  upon  me,  in  very  pity  for  the  suffer- 
ings of  those  who  called  me  iuto  being  ;  but  even  this  is  denied  me. 
Without  one  consolation  I  have  endured  this  deadly  burden,  crush- 
ing down  my  very  manhood  at  times,  and  the  hourly  dread  of  a 
shameful  revelation  has  been  with  me  for  years.  Twice  1  1m  e  by 
the  merest  chance  escaped  it,  and  the  d>  atli  of  my  m  >th  r  left  ma 
sole  gu-trdian  of  the  secret.  For  the  first  time- 1  breathe  freely,  for 
the  liist  time  I  am  a  man!  Do  I  trust  you,  Ltouorc'r ' 


THB  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS.  401 

"  As  husband  never  trusted  wife  before  I  Oh,  Lisle,  Liale !  And 
you  were  afraid  of  me  1" 

"I  was,  but  I  am  not.  My  wife  cannot  harbor  one  injustice  against 
me  in  her  heart,  my  life's  secret  is  her  own.  Have  I  won  the  right 
to  that  divine  happiness  of  which  you  spoke — the  blessed  conscious- 
ness of  '  perfect  trust  and  confidence  ' — that  my  '  lips  mock  at  hap- 
piness by  smiling  over  no  unuttered  secret  ?'  " 

"  Oh,  Lisle,  there  never  was  an  hour  when  you  might  not  have 
told  me  this  1  Could  I  have  loved  you  less,  in  realizing  that  you 
needed  it  the  more  for  your  very  misfortunes  ?  No,  no.  "Why 
should  I  lament  that  in  being  the  son  of  a  gentleman  you  are  all  I 
love  and  admire  as  thoroughly  as  I  respect,  while  the  son  of  Milea 
Sterling  might  have  been  an  object  of  utter  indifference  to  me  I 
Oh,  Lisle,  you  are  not '  cursed,'  but  blessed.  Whoever  your  father 
was,  God  bless  him." 

"  I  am  sure  he  did  long  since.  He  deserved  it,  for  he  paid  as  bit- 
ter a  penalty  for  his  fault  as  I  have  suffered  from  it.  1  blessed  him 
and  forgave  him,  and  God's  justice  is  tenderer  than  man's." 

A  solemn  silence  reigned  between  them  when  Lisle  had  spoken 
these  words ;  but  cheek  to  cheek  and  heart  to  heart  in  a  fond  em- 
brace, each  felt  all  that  the  other  thought ;  and  so  tenderly  and 
reverently  they  buried  the  mutual  secret  in  their  united  souls,  mur- 
muring only  "  Requiescat  in  pace." 


What  need  to  follow  them  farther,  to  go  back  with  them  to  their 
southern  home  henceforward  blessed  and  hallowed  by  that  pure  and 
enduring  affection  born  of  mutual  trust  and  sympathy,  that  oneness 
of  heart  and  soul  which  is  the  only  true  marriage.  Why  depict  the 
joy  of  tired  and  faithful  friends  over  this  reunion  of  two  beings  who 
had  leraned  to  understand  and  thoroughly  appreciate  each  other 
only  through  such  trials  and  sufferings  as  mocked  their  efforts  to 
comprehend.  Deeply  buried  in  his  heart  Lisle  kept  the  secret  of 
his  wile's  flight  and  his  own  pursuit,  nor  would  she  herself  confess 
it  when  giving  to  her  faithful  friend,  Mrs.  Venard,  so  much  of  her 
confidence  as  she  felt  belonged  to  her  in  return  for  all  the  affection 
and  perfect  faith  reposed  in  her  when  circumstances  had  so  con- 
demned her.  Even  the  faithful  Margaret  lisped  no  wo.d  of  that 
eventlul  journey  which  had  so  nearly  be.n  their  last,  and  none  sus- 
pected it.  Thanks  to  the  fair  Melissa's  fascinations  over  the  absent 


402  THE  HOUSE  BEHIND  THE  POPLARS. 

Joseph  Perkins,  no  one  remained  who  had  the  power  or  wish  ft 
annoj  Leonore  with  memories  of  the  past,  and  eren  the  Wheelers 
who  had  watched  her  suspiciously,  forgot  their  vigilance  when, 
nothing  occurred  to  keep  it  alive.  Mr.  Bertram  himself,  haying 
seen  his  prophecies  reasonably  fulfilled,  ceased  to  croak  of  future 
misfortunes  here,  and  transferred  to  his  business  the  energy  hereto- 
fore expended  in  grumbling  and  foreboding,  much  to  his  wife's  peace 
and  enjoyment. 

How  little  the  world  suspects  the  tragical  inner  lives  of  thoso 
whom  it  delights  to  honor ;  how  little  society  dreams  of  the  aching, 
weary  burdens  borne  by  many  of  its  idols  and  votaries  !  O'er  many 
a  life  some  curse  hangs,  dread  and  heavily,  and  blessed  is  the  veil 
that  screens  it  from  unpitying  eyes. 


THH  END. 


•• 


39085 


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